The Sunrise Chronicles
by n1ght3lf
Summary: A prequel series to "Sunrise", this tells the story of the eight years between Akane's death and Ranma's revenge.
1. Ch 1: Burned and Broken

_The Dragon's Fire maneuver is a powerful final-attack ki-blast, known and performed only by the ruling line of the Musk Dynasty. It apparently involves the focus of all aspects of a person's ki into the fist, followed by its release. The blast spreads out in a circular pattern, devastating everything within a 100-meter radius._

_It has only been seen and recorded by a Nyuchiezu chieftain once before. The 94th chieftain, X'ian Cao, viewed the attack (from a safe distance) during the last Nyuchiezu-Musk engagement, the Battle of Two Rivers. Her observations are recorded in her scrolls describing that battle. Other chieftains have seen the maneuver, but did not survive the experience._

_My own observations are much more detailed...regrettably. You see, this journal entry serves three purposes. It is first a technical description of the most powerful ki-blast encountered by the Nyuchiezu - one that has taken the lives of seven chieftains and countless warriors. Secondly, it is a historical journal, giving some of the circumstances surrounding my admittance to the village. Finally - and most importantly, for me personally - it is a memorial, a tribute to my departed fiancee and friends._

_As has been reported in earlier journals, I am the first chieftain to have been born masculine, having acquired my current form due to Jusenkyo and having that form rendered permanent by the Chisuiton. It was in the hope of breaking this permanency that I; my fiancee, Akane Tendo; the heir apparent to the Nyuchiezu leadership, Shampoo; and my friends, Ryouga Hibiki and Mousse; traveled to Mount Hourai, in search of the Kaisuifuu. It is here that we last encountered Herb, current lord of the Musk Dynasty. We had beaten his servants, Lime and Mint, and had surrounded him. At this point, he held the Chisuiton and the Kaisuifuu. We demanded he surrender and allow me to use the Kaisuifuu, thereby regaining my natural form._

_Herb...at this point, Herb looked back at his fallen comrades, then back at me. I remember with great sorrow the pride, the arrogance I held in my heart at this point. Warning signals flashed in the back of my mind as he drilled his gaze into me. In the clarity of hindsight, I know precisely what my subconscious was telling me: One martial artist was facing five proven, skilled martial artists...without the slightest trace of fear or uncertainty in him. This could only occur if he held some trick up his sleeve._

_Herb's words, spoken to me, are burned forever into my mind, echoing there each time quiet surrounds me. 'Hear me, Ranma,' the Musk prince said, his tenor projecting far beyond the site of our battle, 'You will not regain your manhood - now or ever! Musk Dynasty Final Attack - Dragon's Fire!!'_

_At this point, his right fist, clenched in anger since the fall of his comrades, began to glow white with ki-energy, brightening to a near-blinding brilliance. He then thrust the fist into the air, much as I do when performing the Hiryuu Shouten Ha. As the fist reached its maximum height, the energy was released._

_Although I can see it clearly in my mind, I cannot easily explain what happened during that last second. Something inside of me told me to hold my ground, that if I projected confidence, I would be shielded from it. I was right - to a limited extent. It shielded me from the darker aspects of Herb's ki; however, it did not shield me from the brunt of Herb's blast. Perhaps, one day, in the thick of battle, a warrior will find a full counter to the blast. Until then..._

_Ryouga and Mousse, sensing what Herb was doing, leapt for him - and were the first to encounter the blast. In the instant before I was overwhelmed by the blast, I saw...Ryouga and Mousse's forms, burned and broken...Akane and Shampoo, crouched, trying to shield themselves from the unstoppable. Herb could not be seen in the center of the firestorm. Then the blast took me...and with it, incinerated all my old hopes and dreams._

_I miss you, my friends._

-- Excerpt from Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th chieftain of the Nyuchiezu

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Burned and Broken

Part the First of the Sunrise Chronicles

All relevant characters created by Rumiko Takahashi. All other characters created by me. All rights reserved. I must ask that you not do anything with this work without the author's permission.

Note: The events portrayed in this story occur roughly eight years before the events portrayed in "Sunrise".

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The brilliance of the Dragon's Fire faded to a sterile white phosphorescence as Ranma emerged from her forced slumber. A soft, almost inaudible groan escaped from deep within her throat as she absorbed the dull, throbbing ache throughout her body. Fighting the pain, she raised her head slightly, in an effort to view her surroundings.

Her eyes widened as she realized...It was a hospital. Her father snored away in a chair, somehow sleeping in what had to be an uncomfortable position. Ukyou was much closer, her head resting on the bed next to Ranma's stomach, her body sprawled in a chair next to the bed. Her soft blue eyes narrowed as the noted the slightly damp spots next to Ukyou's head: she had cried herself to sleep.

Then the dread spread through her, as chilling as a winter breeze, as she remembered her last moments on Mount Hourai: Ryouga... Mousse... Shampoo... Akane. She tried to move - to get out of bed - to find her...an impossibility. Pain washed through her as she raised her arm slightly - her only success.

The movement did not go unnoticed. Ukyou stirred from her sleep, her head raising slowly. A strange joy, like a parent reunited with a lost child, sparkled in her eyes as she took in Ranma's now-conscious form. "R...Ranma?" she whispered softly, her voice cracking from the sleep. "You're awake..." She hugged Ranma gently, careful not to hurt her.

There was bit of hesitation in the embrace, a quality quickly noticed by its recipient. Ukyou broke the hug, then took one of Ranma's hands into her own, comfortingly stroking it. The joy was fading in her dark eyes as the events of the recent past sank in.

"Ucchan...what..." The words that came from Ranma's lips were lifeless, limp, without the usual arrogance or fire. Ukyou sat there uncomfortably, her head to the ground, unable to face those imploring eyes.

"Herb...he let out a powerful ki-blast. It leveled most of the mountain." A glassy shimmer appeared in her eyes as tears started to form.

Ohno...

"A...ka...ne?"

Ukyou's tears were uncontrollable. Unable to do much more, she shook her head, her shaking hands unfolding a newspaper. A few drops fell on the thin paper, raining its sadness onto the headline:

Local Teens Die In Explosion

Ukyou managed to catch enough breath to speak, occasional sobs mingled in with her words. "I... I'm sorry, Ranchan... you were the only... only survivor..."

In the years that Ukyou had had the pleasure to know Ranma, she had seen a myriad of emotions from him/her: unbridled joy, contented happiness, noisy anger, dark humiliation. This... this was something new: sorrow. The young woman's head collapsed back onto the pillow, any strength holding it up vanished. Her breathing was strangely quiet as the tears flowed freely from mourning eyes.

To Ukyou, it was as though Ranma was watching _himself_ die.

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Recovery (Physical recovery, anyway) sped along quickly, primarily due to Ranma's exemplary health. Her strength returned to her as she received daily visits from friends... those few who were still alive. On the other hand, there wasn't much for her to get better for. The two things she had dreaded more than anything else - the loss of Akane and the loss of her masculine form - had made themselves rude reality. All because of Herb. Ranma burned in anger, fire coursing through her soul as she thought about him... HIM... with his manhood, his friends... what did he - did _she_ have waiting for her when she got out of here?

* KNOCK, KNOCK *

"Come in..."

Oh dear. Mom...

Nodoka Saotome walked alone into the hospital room, her katana wrapped and draped along her back. Confusion showed in her eyes as tears ran unwiped down her face. "Um... Ranko... this is going to sound a little strange. I... I went to the dojo, looking for Ranma. When I... Then Kasumi said... Nabiki agreed, but... but Genma denied it... but then they... and he... and..."

"Yes, Mom." Ranma Saotome felt no fear of her fate...not anymore.

Nodoka reached out to hug her prodigal child, tears continuing to pour down her face. "Oh Ranma... I... I don't know what to say. How did it happen?"

Ranma broke the hug, a small smile adorning her face. This, at least, she could laugh about.

"Sit down and I'll tell you one unbelievable story." She waited for her mother to get comfortable, then took in a deep breath.

"It all started when Pop took us to Jusenkyo..."

"Finally, we ran into Herb. Turns out he was cursed like me, only he was stuck as a girl by being splashed with water from this magic bucket. So what does the bakayaro do? He splashes me with the bucket, leaving me in the same jam. We raced to get this teapot that could change us back, but he got there first and..." Ranma trembled, fighting hard to keep the tears from coming. She broke down as Nodoka hugged her, unable to control herself any longer.

"I don't know what to do, Mom. A... Akane's gone... I can't change back... I just don't know..."

Nodoka's voice was shaking as she held on. "Did you... love... Akane?"

She felt Ranma's head nod up and down. "Uh-huh... I never... I never told her..." The sobs overwhelmed any more words forthcoming.

Nodoka looked down at the ancient piece of paper in her hands: the promise, written with Genma's strong strokes; the single large thumbprint, sealing the covenant; Ranma's playful handprints, bringing laughter to the solemn page. An instant later, and the document was a crumpled ball. The child in her arms had known of the mysteries of love - the power it held, the risks it carried - and, now, the ache of its loss. The old fool had kept his promise.

* KNOCK, KNOCK *

"Who is it?" Nodoka answered. Releasing her hold, she wiped the tears from Ranma's face, eliciting a brave smile from her.

"It's me, Cologne."

"Come in," Ranma called, her voice cracking only slightly.

"How are you today, Ranma?"

Ranma shrugged. "Okay, I guess..." She took the moment to look at Cologne critically, her eyes widening at the realization of how much _older_ Cologne looked since the...

"Ranma... can we talk for a minute or two?" Cologne seemed nervous, almost vulnerable, as she whispered.

"Sure. What is it?"

Cologne sighed. "My spies... my spies have found the Musk Dynasty fortress. They also report that Herb has returned, with the Chisuiton... and the Kaisuifuu."

Needless to say, Ranma was quite speechless, her eyes wide. Cologne continued.

"I am willing to give you the ability to retrieve them, on one condition."

Her voice took on a solemn tone as the condition was read: "Become my heir."

Become Cologne's heir? This had to be some sort of joke. "What? How could I become the leader of the Nyuchiezu?"

"As leader of the Nyuchiezu, I can accept outsiders as members of the community... and I can select my heir. Shampoo was going to be that heir, once she married you. Now, because of that imbecile, I have no heir. Please, Ranma. I am an old woman, and my time of passing approaches." She shook her head slowly, partly from sadness, partly from frustration. "I don't have the strength to beat Herb. Under my guidance, you will." She smiled privately at a small commotion outside, then focused her eyes on Ranma.

The young martial artist's gaze shifted uncertainly from Cologne to Nodoka and back. "May I be allowed some time to think about it?"

Cologne looked for a moment at the woman she had just offered her kingdom to. The fire had returned to her eyes, but with subtle, almost imperceptible differences. This child was more patient than her old self, more willing to search for a solution, rather than fight for it. Perhaps more importantly, no trace of surrender showed.

"Right now, Ranma, time is the one thing we have in abundance."

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A "closing early" sign hung in front of Ucchan's as the reddish hues of dusk poured through the restaurant's entrance. Dinner rush was just dying down; the restaurant's proprietor stepped out from behind the grill, on her way to hang the "closed" sign, when a last customer stepped in.

"Hello, Nabiki. What can I get for you?"

A small chill went up her spine as Nabiki Tendo smiled. Nabiki smiling meant only one thing: she wanted something, usually from whoever she was smiling at. Her soft alto dripped with honey. "Ukyou... there is something that we must discuss before you go to visit Ranma."

Ukyou gulped nervously, fearing the worst. "Is something wrong? Is he..."

Nabiki shook her head. "No. He... she... she's unchanged. She's healing, but still stuck. But... there was a discussion today, between her and Cologne."

As Ukyou's eyes widened, Nabiki continued her tale. "Cologne made her an offer she probably won't refuse. Training to eventually defeat Herb and gain her manhood back... if she becomes Cologne's heir."

Surprised though she was, Ukyou still managed to find enough breath to speak. "What does this mean - for Ranma, I mean?"

"Ranma's probably going to China. What I want is to go with her. And, chances are, that won't happen unless others come along - such as yourself."

"Where Ranma goes, I go. If he were traveling to Hell, I'd start selling okonomiyaki to the demons. But... why do you want to go?"

The young businesswoman pulled out a pair of mirrorshades from her purse, placing them neatly over her eyes. "Let's just say I have my reasons. But we need to talk to Cologne, tonight, before visiting Ranma."

Ukyou stared down at the spatula in her hand - her source of income, her weapon of choice... but not her strength. She bit her lip, deep in thought, then turned back to Nabiki. Unable to bring any words to come, she simply nodded her affirmative.

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Ranma stared out the window from a hospital room chair, lost in thought as she looked out at the distant stars. Cologne's offer... To put it bluntly, it scared her. It would be so easy to stay, to just continue on with school, start an ordinary life, get an ordinary job... and so tempting. No more to lose, just carry on with day-to-day life. No more losses.

What all had she lost from this road she'd taken? Her manhood? Given. Her fiancee? Also given. Her friends? That too. Tears fell down her cheeks as the list mounted - her mother, friends here and there, her childhood... was there anything left?

That list was depressingly short. Mom had returned, in her darkest hour. Pop was around, as always. The Tendos, maybe... and Ucchan. Now she was asked to leave them - everything else she had - for a longshot at getting her manhood back. Was it worth it?

Until this, her answer would have been a simple and obvious "yes". Now... what for? Akane was gone - forever. Most of her friends were with her, to wherever souls go when they...

Who knows? Given time, she could get used to an ordinary life... finish high school... go to college... heck, with luck, she could find a nice g-

The tears started flowing down her cheeks, continuing unabated until sleep mercifully came to quiet her.

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"Ranma? Are you okay?"

She woke up with a start, then groaned as she took in the pain of a stiff neck. Still groggy, she shielded the morning light from her eyes and stared at her visitors.

Cologne stood in the middle, her walking staff bringing her to eye level with the others. Nabiki and Ukyou stood on either side of her, their faces solemn. Mirrorshades hid Nabiki's eyes from view, while the weariness painted on the other two guests suggested a long, drawn-out night. Cologne raised a gnarled hand to silence any words forthcoming from Ranma's lips, then smiled softly.

"Ranma, before you announce any decision... there is something you should know. Your parents, and these two..." she gestured to the girls next to her, "have expressed an interest in accompanying you and joining the Nyuchiezu, should you accept."

Ranma blinked in disbelief as she fixed a skeptical gaze on the middle Tendo. "Nabiki? You want to join the Nyuchiezu? You're no warrior."

Tears began to flow from behind the mirrorshades. Her face was contorted into a hard mask from the anger and pain coursing through her. "When Mom died, I... couldn't take the pain. I shut off my emotions and became everyone's favorite ice queen, to avoid getting hurt. Then Akane died, and..." She couldn't get any more out as the sobs overwhelmed her.

The blue eyes shifted over to the okonomiyaki chef. "What about you, Ucchan?"

A soft, relaxing smile crept onto Ukyou's face as she matched Ranma's gaze. "The first time you left my sight, you stayed lost for ten years and ended up cursed. The second time, your friends died and you were cursed permanently."

Her whisper acquired a subtle ferocity at the end. "You're never leaving my sight again, Ranchan."

Ranma closed her eyes. A tear started to roll down her cheek, though she quickly wiped it away (after all, guys don't cry). She opened her eyes, looked at the trio, and smiled grimly. It wasn't going to be easy...

"Okay. I will, provided my parents, Nabiki, and Ukyou can come... and any other friends, if they want to."

*************************************************************************

"Hey, Akane. It's me. Sorry I missed the funeral, but... I was in the hospital for awhile."

Ranma crouched in front of a recently-dug grave, the icy winter wind stinging her face. Her soft fingers ran across the cold etched stone, numbly tracing out the "A-ka-ne", her hands trying to absorb what her mind could not. Cologne, Nabiki, and Ukyou stood at the edge of the cemetery, hovering nervously, but allowing Ranma her privacy.

"Akane... I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have brought you along. It was my fight, not yours, not Ryouga's..." She paused for a moment at the fresh grave next to Akane's, "...nobody's but mine."

"I...Mom found out about my other half... my only half, now... and she doesn't mind it. We're becoming close, now, so... I know you always wanted us to be together, so... you should be happy to hear that."

"Akane, I... I gotta go away for awhile. Cologne... she offered me the training to beat Herb and get my manhood back... if I leave for the Amazon village. My parents and Nabiki and... Ukyou will be coming along, so I won't be alone."

She smiled for a moment, imagining a half-crazed cry of "Ranma no baka!", then sobered back up. "Akane, I'm sorry I never told you this while you were... while you were here. I... I love you. I... Akane... I'd give anything... my manhood... my life... anything to have you back. I'm sorry, Akane. I'm so sorry..." She stayed there, crying, vainly trying to wipe the tears away, but finding the flow too great for her to handle.

After a few minutes, Ranma pushed herself up, her tears subsiding. "I... Akane... goodbye." She looked over at Ryouga's grave. "Ryouga... watch over her, okay? And Ryouga... thanks - for everything."

She started to walk away, slowly, not really wishing to leave. The winter wind seemed just a bit colder as she grabbed her collar, head bowed as she made her way out to the others.

**************************************************************************

Once upon a time... upon a lifetime... the Tendo household was one of the liveliest places in Nerima. With a tactless loudmouth, his hopelessly violent fiancee, beautiful women who wanted him, and handsome men who wanted her, the place was a constant source of entertainment and property damage.

Now, an eerie silence hung low over the place as Ranma knocked on the door. She hadn't wanted to come - too many memories were here - but she had to get her things. The others followed slowly, reverently, as though still part of the funeral procession.

"Hello, Ranma. Come in." Kasumi spoke quietly as she opened the front door. Her face was almost frightening: the perpetually cheerful demeanor was gone, distorted into a long, haggard, empty gaze.

Ranma did what seemed to come natural for the situation: she hugged her. "Are you all right, Kasumi?"

Kasumi released the hold, then smiled - a realistic smile, a strange mix of love and sorrow. She shook her head slowly. "No. None of us are. Father's comatose... Nabiki's angry... I'm... I'm..." She started crying, letting the crumbling shell fall. "I lost her, Ranma... I lost my baby sister... Nabiki's leaving too... Father's fading away... I... I can't take this alone..."

"You don't... you don't have to be alone, Kasumi." Everyone did a double-take as Dr. Tofu entered. The words were forced out, as though the fog he tried to cut through were real, tangible, rather than in his mind. For once, his eyes showed clearly, piercing through the gloom. "If you ever need someone... I am always here."

"Th-thank you, Doctor. Thank you..." She ran to him, burying her crying face into his chest. He stood there patiently, silently waiting as she let out her pain.

All of a sudden, the room seemed a lot more crowded. "Uh... Kasumi... we'll be upstairs." While the girls ran upstairs to pack, Cologne went in search of tea, leaving the potential couple free to be alone.

**************************************************************************

It didn't take long for Ranma to pack. All that she owned - a few outfits and keepsakes from her travels - fit into one outdoors-style backpack. Her work finished, she sat in the middle of the room, somewhat bewildered, her next move uncertain. Fortunately, Ukyou made the move for her, wrapping her arms around Ranma's small frame. Ranma was startled as she realized Ukyou was... shaking?

"Ranchan... I know this won't be easy on any of us... but just remember that you're not alone. I'm here, Nabiki's here, your parents are here... even Cologne."

All Ranma could manage was a shake of the head, sparking the young cook's anger. She broke the hug, and bore her fiery gaze into Ranma.

"Dammit, you jackass, listen to me! You _can't_ do this alone. If you do, you'll just end up dead - or worse. Look at yourself! You're so shaken up - from your curse, from Akane - that you wouldn't stand a chance in a fight. In fact..." She readied herself for combat, unsheathing the giant spatula from her back.

"Excuse me?" A challenge was something Ranma wasn't expecting from Ukyou, especially at a time like this.

"What's the matter? Too weak to fight?"

"Okay. That does it..." Ranma leapt up, assuming a fighting stance.

The fight was brief - and one sided. A spatula whizzed past Ranma's left ear, a millisecond before the combat spatula smashed her right one. A last bit of property damage was created as a girl-sized dent was made in the outside wall.

"Excuse me, am I interrupting anything?" Nodoka opened the door, only to be treated to the sight of her child plastered to the wall and one of her few remaining friends, combat-ready and facing her. Unfazed by the sight, she quietly walked in, the katana unwrapped on her back, and bowed to Ukyou, her gentle gaze focusing on her child's surviving fiancee. "Ukyou... could you please leave the room for a moment? I must talk to Ranma - in private - before we go."

Ukyou nodded, then turned back to the modern art on the wall. "We'll continue this discussion later..." Sheathing her combat spatula, she left the room, leaving mother and child alone.

Nodoka patiently waited for Ranma to recover from the blow, then gestured to the futon. "Come, Ranma. We have important business to discuss." She then sat down gracefully, inviting Ranma to join her.

"hai..." Ranma crawled slowly to the futon, still groggy, and took her place in front of her mother.

Ranma's mother gazed unflinchingly at her for a minute, silently taking in the subtle details of her form for the first time. She sighed, then spoke softly, a nervous flutter in her voice.

"Ranma, you are a... an adult now... it is time for certain questions to be asked." Needless to say, this did little for Ranma's peace of mind. Nodoka smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"The first is the one you've probably been dreading since... well, since it happened. If there were no other way, and it were possible for you to bear children and carry on the line... would you?"

Ranma shook her head, laughing softly. Soun Tendo's joking words from before, about finding a husband, echoed through her mind. "It's way too early to ask that, Mom... give me a few years to think about it."

Nodoka nodded, silently applauding Ranma's careful answer. She unbuckled the bandolier strap and pulled the katana in front of her, holding the sheathed weapon in both hands.

"The other, while also important, is not quite as great a responsibility... and is far easier to live with. Ranma, are you willing to carry on the traditions of the Saotome school of Anything-Goes Martial Arts and become its honored representative and heir?"

The warrior looked confused for a moment. "Mom, I dunno... the Nyuchiezu..."

"The obligations will not interfere... I have spoken with Cologne on the matter." Nodoka beamed, impressed with the wisdom her... daughter... showed. Funny - she had always wanted a daughter, but had given up hope after Genma left.

An identical smile formed on Ranma's lips. "Very well then. I accept. I hereby swear on my life to bring honor to the Anything-Goes School... as its representative and heir."

"Then, my 'wild child', it is time for you to have this." She held out the sword to Ranma, who hesitantly took it. "This is the honor sword of our clan. Wield it for the honor of our family... daughter."

Ranma sobered up at that last word. Daughter. Yes, she was... now. But, that didn't mean she had to like it. "Mom, should I go after Herb?"

Nodoka rose, bowed deeply to the still-seated warrior, and turned to leave. "Ranma... only you can make that decision... when the time comes." Turning her head around, she managed a wry smile. "But, when that time comes... follow your heart. You will not be disappointed by the direction it takes you." She winked, then left the room, leaving the new head of the Anything-Goes School to ponder her predicament.

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Nabiki sat on her bed, silently lost in her thoughts as she stared at a box in her hands. All of her other things - her clothes, books, and other personal items - had been neatly packed, leaving only this. A simple cigar box, nondescript, worn from years of use. Her shaking hands quickly opened the box before the rest of her could voice protest.

Inside, beneath rolls of yen and undeveloped film, the past sat there, forever frozen in two-dimensional images. Knowing the emotions the search would cause, knowing the memories that would rise unpleasantly to the surface, she started to look through them anyway, deeming the results of the search worth the price.

The first pictures, rather appropriately, were of her most popular model - and the only regular still left. On top, Ranma-chan sat there, clothed in nothing from the waist up, nonchalantly drying her shirt. Next, a sleeping red-headed beauty, provocatively snoozing away the afternoon. Other photos went by, from basic everyday shots to more risque "What the heck am I wearing?!?" photos, bringing a pang of guilt to the once-passionless businesswoman. She had taken advantage of him/her, now her forever, using the source of his humiliation for her own profits. Now... because of that bastard Herb, it would be a humiliation that Ranma would live with for all time.

Beneath the first group were other photos - the ones she feared the most. Akane, her sister and friend, was swinging her arm in mid-crush, her eyes in dangerous focus, her short hair flying in the wind. Nabiki couldn't help but stop. She seemed so alive in the photo, so vibrant, so passionate...

The trembling started, the byproduct of sadness and anger, as other images, memories this time, appeared in her mind's eye. Kasumi's blank, ghostly look as the news came in from the telephone. The lonely trip to the hospital, wishing beyond all reason that it wasn't her. The cold stillness of the morgue. Lifting the sheet, only to see a mass of flesh only barely recognizable as her sister.

She put the box down, not wishing to destroy the contents inside, knowing that something in the room would be. The walls, so battered and bruised throughout Ranma's stay here, seemed a more worthy victim than the pictures - and were far more replaceable.

A few minutes later, her anger vented sufficiently, she returned to her bed, to continue the search. Her still-trembling hands took out one Akane picture, a token for Ranma to remember her by, then quickly flipped past them, into the miscellaneous section of her collection.

A small smile crept on her face as she found her quarry. Ranma (masculine, for once) and Akane, walking together to school, a few weeks before they left. She quietly placed the picture in her backpack, took out the money, and closed the box, placing it on the bed next to her. She wouldn't be opening it again.

"Hey, Nabiki, you in here?" Ukyou knocked loudly, then slid the door open. She walked into the room, noting the fist-sized holes in the wall, then noticed Nabiki's red, puffy eyes. "So... what's up?"

"Oh... nothing. Just trying to figure out how to say goodbye. I've lived here all my life, after all. So... how's Ranma coming along?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess. He and his mom are having a little heart-to-heart. Are you ready?"

Nabiki looked aimlessly at the room, hers for so long... she nodded.

"Come on. Let's get some of this stuff downstairs."

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Ranma stood misty-eyed as she waited outside the dojo for the others to come. This, her first home - at least, the first she could remember. After the change, she... he... needed a place like this: a place to become human. Here he had learned - learned honor from Mr. Tendo, kindness from Kasumi, shrewd strategy from Nabiki, and from Akane...

Now it was all gone, wiped away by a murderer's hand, save what she had learned. She absently felt the handle of the katana strapped to her back - it was her turn now. Bowing her head, she whispered a small prayer, to whatever deity would be willing to listen. A simple thanks for guiding her to this place... and a prayer for wisdom to carry on.

"What's on your mind, Ranma?"

She turned around to the source of the voice. Cologne stood there, balancing atop her cane, staring calmly at her new pupil.

"Too much, Hibachan... too much."

"Get used to it. You have a lot to learn: Chinese, for starters. There's also herbal medicine... shiatsu... Nyuchiezu martial arts..."

"Okay, okay, I get the idea."

"Do you?" An enigmatic smile spread across Cologne's face. "Think about the situation you're in. You are a Nyuchiezu now - with all the rights and responsibilities the title carries."

The blue eyes widened, realizing. "You mean..."

"Uh-huh. A bit of advice: Learn fast. The faster you learn, the faster you can defeat Herb, and regain your manhood. Also, the wisdom you gain could save your life."

Ranma still hadn't quite recovered from the revelation. "Oh my..."

"Hey, isn't that my usual line?" Kasumi walked out the front door, smiling again, though straining to carry a heavy backpack. "Nabiki and Ukyou will be out in just a moment."

"Thanks, Kasumi." The two women studied their feet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Kasumi broke the silence, a strange glow on her face; not her old-style cheerfulness, but pleasant nonetheless.

"Ranma, I was looking through Akane's things... and found this." She handed the young redhead a small whistle - old, simple, and elegant. "I found it, buried, in one of her storage boxes. When I blew into it, it made such a sound... so beautiful, so mournful... I thought you should have it, to remember her by."

"Thanks, Kasumi... for everything." Ranma let escape a small, nostalgic sigh, then locked Kasumi in a fierce hug.

"When I first came here, I was so frustrated... so angry... I needed your wisdom and your peace." Releasing the embrace, Ranma locked eyes with Kasumi, concern etched on her face. "So. What will you do now?"

Kasumi shook her head, sad yet determined. "I don't know... take care of Father, for now. In the long run..." She turned back to the house, smiling as Dr. Tofu walked out to them, "... who knows?" Nodoka, Nabiki, and Ukyou followed him out, each shouldering a backpack.

"Are you ready, Ranchan?" Ukyou smiled fiercely, adjusting the fit of her backpack.

"I guess. When will Pop be back?"

"Any mo-"

"PIGTAILED GIRL!!!"

"Oh no..." Ranma slowly turned around - and instantly regretted it. Kuno barreled straight for her, roses in hand, his face a picture of pure ecstasy at the presence of his goddess in pigtails. His twisted sister followed behind him, her eyes aflame in madness, her sable ribbon whipping in the wind.

The bokken-wielding young man wrapped his arms around his only love, a desperate act rewarded with an uppercut to his jaw. He flew back, dazed, but still conscious.

"Kuno." Ranma drilled her gaze into the poor fool, rage smouldering within her. Her voice, never above a whisper, cracked with pain. "Leave now. I don't want you, I've never wanted you, and I never will." Kuno stayed sprawled on the ground, nursing his jaw, as Kodachi made her advance. She whipped her ribbon at Ranma, only to have it caught in one hand.

"What have you done with my Ranma-sama? To what dark realm have you spirited him?"

Anyone who believed that Kodachi could not get any crazier, that somehow her typical insanity was as crazy as she could get, was easily proven wrong, much to the discomfort of those unfortunate to witness it. She looked almost demonic, her intense gaze a devil's mask as she hissed at her love and adversary, expecting a fight.

What she didn't expect was the sadness in Ranma's voice. "Kodachi... Ranma's gone."

"You lie! Bring him back, you wretched, wretched girl! BRING HIM BACK!!!" The soprano reached an ear-splitting intensity as her hysteria reached climax.

Ranma yanked the ribbon from Kodachi's grip, pulling her dangerously close. Her hand grabbed the collar of Kodachi's leotard, bringing their faces inches apart.

"Listen to me, Kodachi. He's gone - forever. Believe me, I would give anything - ANYTHING - to have him back, but I can't. I can't..." Ranma's words were choked off as the tears started to flow. She threw Kodachi away, landing the younger Kuno right next to her brother.

"Pigtailed girl..." Kuno moved to get up, to comfort the scarlet-haired beauty in in her hour of distress, only to be stopped by a gentle hand pressing against his chest. He turned to its source...then gasped in pure astonishment.

The woman that knelt next to him bore his sister's youthful form. But the face, normally disguised beneath dark insanity, was soft... crying... _sane_. She breathed softly, turned to her brother, and shook her head, warding him off. The gymnast turned back to face Ranma, her voice quiet and polite.

"I... apologize for my actions. If you could, could you please tell me where his body lies?"

Ranma nodded softly, the adrenaline subsiding. "Mount Hourai... or, at least, what's left of it."

"Thank you. Be well in your travels, pigtailed girl." She turned to her still-dumbfounded brother, hefted him like a sack of potatoes, and walked slowly away. Ranma watched her walk away, then stared at the ribbon in her hand. The gymnast had left behind her favorite weapon - almost as if she wouldn't need it anymore.

"Ranma..." Nabiki's stutters brought her back to reality. "That was... that was..."

"What I had to do." She sighed, trying to settle down from the confrontation. "If I hadn't..."

* HONK, HONK *

A small pasty-white rental car pulled in front of the dojo. Genma got out, waving obliviously to everyone, and opened the trunk. The group started loading the backpacks in silence, fearful of the effects words would have.

When the goodbyes finally came, they were quiet, whispered... tears and hugs and parting words mingled together, with no real desire to see it all end. Finally, it was done, the car on its way... the journey begun.

***************************************************************************

Dear Kasumi,

Hello.

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've written. It's just that, until now, there really wasn't any way we could receive a reply.

Our long journey is almost done. Hibachan says we should reach the village sometime tomorrow. From here (Jusenkyo, of all places), we can just make out a dim glow in the distance, apparently the fires of our new home. It'll be nice to arrive. Six months without a real roof over our heads is reminding me rather unpleasantly of Pop's old training voyages.

This little trip, unlike those other ones, has been to train my mind as well as my body. My Chinese is improving (of course, Hibachan's special "learning spice" doesn't hurt), but is still only at a rudimentary level. I've also learned a few new moves, basic Shiatsu, and herbal medicine. I have learned other things... about my "new" self... that scare the living daylights out of me. Thank goodness Mom's here to explain certain things: hearing that sort of thing from anyone else would be too frightening.

Today was not the most pleasant of days. We learned, much to Pop's dismay, that Jusenkyo holds no "cure". Once cursed, a person is stuck with it. Of course, some are more stuck than others...

Also, Hibachan showed me, from a safe distance, the Musk Dynasty fortress. So close - so damn close - yet infinitely far. I stood there for awhile, taking in its imposing stone walls. I know this sounds strange, but I could feel the power within... the fire of its leader, and the subtle magic of its treasures.

Everyone here is doing fine. Your sister is improving at a frightening rate. Apparently, her childhood training is coming back to her in practice. She isn't quite as talkative as she usually is, for some reason. It's as though she's haunted everyday by what happened. Ukyou's doing well, though I think she misses the old me (To be honest, I miss the old me). There's been some friction between Mom and Pop lately. I don't think she's quite forgiven him for everything that's happened. I hope they can work it out... unfortunately, it doesn't look too promising. After all, a dozen years of loneliness, only to be rewarded with disappointment, isn't easy to forgive.

Well, I'd better get some sleep. It'll be a busy day tomorrow. Give my regards to ojisan and Dr. Tofu and the Kunos and anyone else still in Nerima. I don't think we'll be able to come back and visit anytime soon, but I do look forward to the day when we may see each other again. Take care.

Love,

Ranma.

**************************************************************************

It wasn't often that the village enjoyed a day as harmonious as this. The air still felt of the rainstorm of the night before, massaging the residents with a cool, damp breeze. The sun shone brightly down on them all, its glow warning of a muggy afternoon - an afternoon that had yet to arrive. Most of the villagers toiled away contentedly in the center of town, preparing the area for the following day's events, anxiously awaiting the performances to come. Little did they know...

The half-dozen travelers walked in slowly, silently, wisely choosing to listen, to take in the small whispers, rather than announce their presence openly. Indeed, their very presence in the village was loud enough. It was not often that the village had visitors from outside (tribal law tended to discourage that sort of thing), let alone with such esteemed - and sorely missed - company.

Cologne led the party, in much the same way she led the village: subtle, strong guidance, with force only if needed. Her steps were sure, determined, unwavering from her destination: the village square. Her surprisingly young eyes scoured the village, searching (and discovering) the small changes in the village.

The second in the group, like the others, was a stranger to the village, though it was clear that she was no warrior - at least, not anymore. In her late thirties, the woman carried herself with a gentle, almost royal grace, smiling as she admired the serenity of the village - and the human beauty of its residents. She, like most of the others, wore local clothing: a blue tunic, gray slacks, and ti-chi shoes, all of which seemed out of place, almost undignified, for a person of her class.

The four others were clearly warriors... and seemed as much elemental as human. The only man of the group was about the same age as the woman, and was probably the lady's husband. He was a mountain of a man, burly and stocky, but of average height. The untrained eye might consider him overweight, not recognizing the muscular power contained in his frame. He, too, wore Chinese clothing: long-sleeved gray shirt, black slacks, and shoes, with a white bandanna covering his balding head. A bit of apprehension, almost to the point of being called "fear", showed in his round, weatherbeaten face.

The remaining travelers were all women - young warrior maids, with fire in their eyes. The first of the three was a dark-haired beauty, with flowing brown hair extending down to the small of her back. Her demeanor was a cool confidence, the kind of aura that let you know her peaceful intentions... and her powerful abilities. Unlike the others, she wore foreign clothing: an ocean-blue cook's outfit, by the look of it, adorned with a bandolier loaded with spatulas.

The pigtailed redhead, the smallest in the group (save Cologne), was an enigma. Something about her seemed familiar - and disconcerting. Her light, well-placed steps almost suggested that gravity's persistent hold on the rest of humanity held no meaning for her. She eyed the village... its warriors, the houses... the square... with an patient, excited intensity normally reserved for the hunter spotting prey. Chinese clothing framed her compact form: scarlet Mandarin shirt, black slacks and shoes... and, unlike the other outsiders, suited her well.

The last in the group was the one to fear most, not necessarily due to any abilities she had (though it was clear she had some training), but by her angry, brooding demeanor. A dark flame smouldered in her eyes, the remnant of a long-cherished anger. The neatly cropped, shoulder-length dark brown hair complimented the severe look on her face. These, along with the black Chinese-style outfit flowing about her, gave her the overall appearance of some dark evil - or the darkest.

The villagers moved out of the way for the sextet, watching nervously as they walked forward, creating a makeshift parade as the group moved closer to the great log that served as a battle platform. Most of the village beamed proudly, smiling. Today would be a day to remember for years to come.

A single woman sat on the platform, cleaning the log, trying to hide her excitement beneath her work. She was a true amazon, both in terms of citizenry and physical stature. Towering to a height of nearly six feet standing up, she had a thin, wiry build that suggested incredible agility. Long black hair, adorned with Shampoo-style buns, hung down to her waist. She wore a blue blouse, black slacks, and shoes, an outfit that complimented the cool grey of her eyes. She leapt off the platform, walked to the group, and bowed deeply. She then stood up to her full height, straight and proud, like an army officer.

"Greetings, Hibachan. It is good to see that you have returned after all this time." Her voice faltered slightly. "I... mourn Shampoo's death, and send my condolences for the loss. I now await your training and guidance... as your pupil."

"Nani?!?"

Ranma only had a basic grasp of Chinese, but she had understood more than enough. She approached Cologne, breathing evenly to contain her anger, venting broken Chinese through clenched teeth.

"You... tell me... she... also... pupil?"

Cologne sighed, then managed a slow smile. "Ranma, this is Blossom. She and Shampoo were best friends growing up. She also won last year's tournament... in the absence of both you and Shampoo."

"Tournament?" She looked around, realizing, at the half-cleaned battle platform... the ropes and ribbons... "oh no..."

"Wait." Blossom raised a hand, desperate to quiet any other voices. "Hibachan. You have taken... her... as a pupil? Why? She is... an outsider." Any more words, of Jusenkyo curses and death kisses, were lost in her own disbelief.

"I have admitted all of them into the village and have chosen Ranma as the heir to my knowledge... and, potentially, the leadership."

"No! I will not allow this! The village will not allow this!" Blossom's hands balled up, her will desperately fighting the urge to attack the village elder. The rest of the village watched silently, helpless to interfere as the events unfolded.

Cologne's smile widened. "So... you wish to become my heir as well? Fine. All you have to do is win the tournament tomorrow."

Blossom, still tense, bowed sharply to the old woman. "Very well then. The winner of tomorrow's tournament becomes your pupil - and heir." She turned, fixing her cold stare on Ranma. "Good luck, outsider. You will need all you can get." She then leapt back onto the platform, furiously working out her anger through her work. Sensing the unfocused battle auras flaring up behind her, Cologne sighed, then turned to the crowd.

"Excuse me. It is nice to be back home... though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances. My friends and I will be out to help you in a few minutes, once we go home and drop off our packs." Motioning to the angry warriors behind her, she walked over to a nearby house, searching for the strength to get through this.

***************************************************************************

The house itself was fairly large, originally designed to hold an extended family snugly under one roof. Furniture in the main living area consisted of ancient wooden chairs and tables, well-dusted and preserved. Boxes - the belongings of its new residents - piled up in a dark corner, waiting ominously to be opened. Cologne noticed this immediately upon entering, applauding the faithful diligence of her neighbors, then closed her eyes, focusing her mind on the oncoming storm.

The clouds rolled in, one by one, their dark faces frozen masks from the seeming betrayal. The slam of the heavy wooden door echoed through the house, soon followed by a tumult of angry voices.

"Okay, you old bag, what was that all about?"

"You've got a lot of explaining to do..."

"Up to your old tricks, I see..."

"Pardon me, but I was under the impression..."

"We had a deal, Cologne." Ranma's sharp voice cut through the chatter, silencing the other protests.

Cologne opened her eyes, and wrapped a gnarled hand tightly around her staff. One second and five well-placed pressure points later, and the situation was well under control. The others groaned, struggling unsuccessfully to move through the paralysis.

"Now that I have your attention..." She sighed quietly. Good pupils were so hard to come by these days..."I will give you back control of your head and vocal cords, with the understanding that you will be polite in your discussions." She then prodded them in various spots, producing small squeaks and coughs as they tested their voices.

"Okay, Hibachan. Explain."

* WHAP! *

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Use Chinese, Ranma. The only way you'll learn is by practicing."

"......yes."

"As for the explanation... the answer is simple if you consider the situation. Nabiki."

"Yes?"

"What is the most likely view that the average Nyuchiezu warrior is going to take of your presence here?"

"....Outsider," she replied, recalling Blossom's words.

Cologne smiled. "Very good. Ranma, based on your experience with the Nyuchiezu, what problem does this view pose with tomorrow's tournament?"

Ranma bit her lip, straining to remember her Chinese. "If win, get... death kiss." Her eyes widened, seeing another Shampoo situation unfolding before her.

Cologne nodded, noting Ranma's concern. "Don't worry about that. I can give you protection from that. Now, Ukyou. What would it take to be accepted as a leader in the village?"

Ukyou thought silently for a moment. "Must be... good warrior... best warrior."

Cologne frowned for a moment. "That's part of it... the most difficult part. The rest will come in time. Finally, Genma. What is the one way that Ranma can prove herself the best warrior in the village?"

"Win the tournament."

* WHAP! * "Ow!"

"Speak Chinese next time." She reached out to each of them with her staff, freeing them of their paralysis.

"However, you are correct. Unless Ranma wins tomorrow, she stands no chance of taking over as leader." She let go of her staff, letting it rest against the wall. The backpack came off next, at first sliding down her small form, then miraculously jumping onto the table before it could hit the ground.

"Come on. It is... expected... that we help set up for the tournament."

***************************************************************************

"Ranchan... what are you still doing up?"

The roof of Cologne's house offered a perfect view of the sky; the low level of technology in the area allowed for a breathtaking number of stars. Ranma stared up at them, soothing the ache in her muscles as she lost herself in the silent infinity. It took a few seconds for her to shake herself back to reality and Ukyou's call, by which time the cook had leapt up to join her, taking a seat next to her ex-fiance.

"Oh. Sorry, Ucchan. I was just thinking..." She smiled, a soft, gentle smile reserved for her closest family and friends, "...about tomorrow... and yesterday."

"I know. None of us expected to fight so soon." She took one of Ranma's hands into her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Still... it shouldn't be anything we can't handle."

"Yeah. Thing is... there's -"

"I challenge you!"

"Huh?" The two looked down at the source of the squeaky voice. She couldn't have been more than ten years old... royal-blue hair, long, decorated with buns...a slightly oversized pink outfit...small, child-size bonbori...the two couldn't help but be reminded of their late friend. The chibi-Shampoo stood in a combat stance, weapons at the ready, prepared to defend her village's honor with her life, if need be. The two women, seeing the serious look in her eyes, leapt down to face the small warrior.

"Hello." Ranma assumed a ready stance, prepared for a "fight", but keeping a friendly smile on her face. "Why... why you fight?"

"You're the enemy of the village." The words were said flatly, with no real emotion behind them, obviously parroted from some elder.

"Why? Why... enemy?"

The child lowered her bonbori. Apparently, questions of motive were not usually asked to her. "You... you want to take away Blossom's... Blossom as leader."

The smile on Ranma's face widened, comforted by the thought she wasn't the only one having problems with Chinese. "Who say... Blossom... leader?"

"Uh... everybody." Needless to say, this little warrior was not prepared for a battle of wits.

"Hibachan not. I not."

"Uh..."

Ranma decided to try a different tactic. "Where you when Shampoo die? Where Blossom?"

This got the child's attention. Kawaii brown eyes widened at Shampoo's name. "Sh... Shampoo?"

"Blossom here - safe - in village. I there - hurting... pain..." Ranma's brain worked overtime, stretching for the right words.

Whatever words came out seemed to have some effect on the child. Her head hung low, her mind lost in the conflicting ideas. The bonbori hung limp, lifeless without without their leader's guidance.

"Mouthwash? Mouthwash?"

"Momma!" The child perked up at the sound of her name, relieved to find a familiar sanctuary from the difficult questions. She ran off to her mother's arms, gratefully accepting her embrace.

As for the two newcomers to the village, they watched the parental love... the innocent joy in the child's eyes... the motherly concern and caring...

"Ranma..."

"Yes?"

"That kid... I..."

"I know, Ucchan. I know."

*************************************************************************

Some things, at least, never change.

The household, to a man (or woman), rose with the dawn. Nodoka labored in the kitchen, working her human magic with the breakfast, while the others practiced. Genma worked tutorials with Nabiki, improving her skills to a warrior's level, refining the basic techniques she already knew to perfection. Nearby, Cologne faced off against Ukyou and Ranma, limbering their minds and muscles for the day's events, her commands sharp and harsh.

"Come on, Ranma! You've got to do better than that if you want to beat Blossom!"

"Old bag..." Ranma took in a deep breath, in a vain effort to control her anger. In the past two hours, she'd run full speed on widely spaced bamboo poles, perfected two useful Shiatsu points, set a new personal best in both rate and duration for the Kashuu Tenshin Amaguriken, and had refined the Shishi Houkoudan to a frightening intensity - all without the slightest hint of approval from Cologne.

Suddenly, the old woman's ears perked up. Jumping down from the perch on her staff, she held it out, ready, in a combat stance. "Ranma. Attack me!"

"Huh?"

* THUNK * Cologne's staff smacked against Ranma's blocking arm. "I said attack me, you stupid _girl_!"

"Ranchan..." Ukyou could see what was coming. Ranma saw red, her eyes aflame.

"Why you..." The charge came in, fast and furious. Two well-placed blows later, and Ranma faced the morning sky, blood oozing from her nose. Concerned for their champion's safety, the others ran to her prone form. Ukyou offered her hand to help up the fallen warrior, but was gently pushed aside by Cologne.

"Ranma... this is my lesson for today. Fight with your mind - not your anger. You've got enough bottled up inside of you for an entire village - but it won't do you any good if you can't control it. One of Blossom's favorite tricks is to anger an opponent before a fight. The result is mistakes - little ones, but fatal nonetheless." Cologne offered her hand, which her pupil grudgingly accepted. "I think that's all for today's lesson. You two need to conserve your strength for the tournament."

"Yes, Hibachan." The two bowed to their master, speaking the words simultaneously, then smiling at the strange harmony it made.

*************************************************************************

Cologne stood in the town square near the great log, her finest red robe wrapped around her tiny frame, the calm of her expression a perfect foil for the concern in her mind.

Damn that Musk prince for his fear! So much was lost due to that idiot; so much thrown into chaos. Now, for the first time in ages, the tournament would not only decide its finest warrior, but its leadership. The village's best hope was now in a Jusenkyo-cursed foreigner given the kiss of death by her own great-granddaughter. If she succeeded, the village would be stronger than ever, assuming the anger didn't break it up in the process.

She looked up at the sky. A beautiful day, overall: a few clouds hung isolated in the sky, to shield the warriors from the sun's harsh glare without giving any threat of a downpour. A cool breeze blew in through the village, cooling off overheated bodies and tempers. A perfect day for the business at hand.

Enough reverie. Ranma... Blossom... everyone... had waited long enough. She gripped the gnarled staff in her hands, swinging it in a perfect arc toward the gong next to her.

*....Gongongongongong...*

At the signal, the villagers slowly filed out of their houses, like monks on their way to daily Mass. It wasn't difficult to pick out the day's combatants, as they carried with them the traditional entry fee of the tournament: food of some type, ranging from pork buns to fruit to whole sides of beef.

Ranma and Ukyou were among the last to arrive, their measured steps slow, deliberate, weighted down by the gravity of the situation. They wore their traditional colors, to comfort them in their time of need. Like the others, they carried their entry fee with them: vegetable stir-fry and special modern yaki, respectively. The others followed just as silently, not wishing to interfere.

After a few brief words of introduction, the tournament was begun. The rules were simple: Single elimination, no projectiles, victories by KO or removal from battle area (ring or platform), prelims on ground, semis and finals on the log. Although dozens of warriors came to fight, all eyes were on three of their number.

As usual, Ranma fought bare-handed, using her frightening speed to knock opponents into submission. She avoided using ki-maneuvers, preferring the basic punches and kicks over the special moves. She wasted no time with her opponents, dispatching them with businesslike swiftness.

Ukyou was somewhat of a novelty in the tournament, due to her recent arrival into the village and her unique weaponry (after all, a spatula isn't normally used for combat purposes). Not blessed with Ranma's speed, she had a more difficult time with her matches; however, her battle savvy, honed through dozens of battles in Nerima, gave her a near-unbeatable edge.

Blossom's style was as much of a curiosity as Ukyou's, though it was her use of the tools rather than the tools themselves which was unusual. The warrior wielded a single bonbori, allowing her free left hand a surprising degree of control while the bonbori amplified the already-formidable power in her right arm. This versatile, if unorthodox, method proved quite successful as she worked her way through the matches, blocking attacks with her hand, then using a vicious counter to send them off via bonbori express.

Four were left at the end of the prelims...

The early matches had calmed Ranma somewhat, restoring lost confidence to the once-fallen warrior. Her opponent, a mace-wielding, almost masculine giant of a woman, had seen the fighting prowess of this outsider - and was nowhere near as confident. Ranma bided her time, casually dodging and blocking the blows, calmly waiting for an opening - such as a slight mistiming on a swing. A few seconds later, the poor giant was lying on the ground, unhurt save for her pride. As the referee raised Ranma's arm in victory, she staggered over, touched a surprisingly gentle hand to Ranma's chin, approached her cheek... then stopped. Blossom stood at the front of the crowd, hands crossed over her chest, her head shaking no - and smiling. Dropping her hand, she walked away, trying, without much success, to hide in the crowd, content that Blossom's actions would be far more effective.

Blossom's fight was next... as was Ukyou's. Ranma approached the latter, hugging her close, as though to shield her from the storm. "Ucchan...be careful." The whisper was soft, inaudible to all save one.

Ukyou broke the hold, then looked squarely at Ranma, reading the concern, the worry - the love - in her face. Forcing down her emotions, she managed a wry smile. "Don't worry, Ranchan. I'll see you on the platform in a few minutes." She then leapt onto the great log, unsheathing the spatula from her back, her senses on overdrive.

Blossom scowled away in a combat stance, bonbori in hand, ready for battle. The two bowed to each other in silence, waited for the signal, then rushed toward each other, weapons drawn and swinging.

What followed was a beautiful, complex battle, a three-dimensional chess match of attacks, parries, and counters, with neither opponent giving up any ground or leaving a viable opening. The tension built up in the crowd as they marveled at the skill of the warriors, reaching a fever pitch as the battle approached its climax.

The inevitable happened. Ukyou, starting to tire from the length and intensity of the battle, thrust her combat spatula just a little too far: a small mistake, but enough. Blossom, seeing her opponent off-balance, sweep-kicked, tripping Ukyou up. The young chef dropped her spatula as she started to fall...

A hand grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. Ukyou hung in midair, helpless, held in place by Blossom's iron grip. She winced as the bonbori came swinging...

Ukyou flew through the air, her body making a sickening crunch as it hit one of the support poles, eventually landing close to the platform. The Japanese contingency of the Nyuchiezu rushed to her bleeding, unconscious form, horrified. Ranma bent over, panic increasing as she took in the seriousness of her condition. She looked from one person to another, knowing what had to be done, and started commanding in the language she knew best.

"Pop, take her home - now. Mom, follow, and bandage her wounds as best you can. Nabiki, find a doctor. Hibachan... Hibachan? Where's she go?"

Nabiki placed a hand on Ranma's shoulder, in an effort to calm her. Unfortunately, she wasn't much better: she looked ready to kill. The voice that came out was strained, angered, twisted from the emotion held back. "Calm down, Ranma. Hibachan _is_ the doctor...sort of. You worry about Blossom. She doesn't look happy..."

Indeed she wasn't. Expecting the cheers of the victor, the approval of the village for defeating this outsider... all she received were disapproving stares from the village - and embarrassed looks from friends. To make matters worse, she was cursing the lot of them, calling them all hypocrites and cowards.

One last harsh whisper came from Nabiki's lips, serving as both advice and warning. "Remember: Fight with your mind."

Ranma turned the words over and over in her head as they carried Ukyou away, desperately fighting down the anger swelling within her. She knew perfectly well why Blossom had done it: to unnerve her, to anger her into making a mistake. Even worse, it was working. "Fight with your mind..."

A picture emerged in Ranma's mind - an image of happier times. Two girls, fast friends, enjoying a practice bout in the dojo... she smiled as she remembered. Her first fight with Akane - and one of the few she actually won. She turned around, fixing her gaze on her irate adversary. The smile changed slightly, into something akin to a snake smiling at a field mouse. One swift bound later, and Ranma stood on the log, ready for battle.

"Blossom. Fight!"

Her adversary, recognizing the challenge in the crude words, glared at her, then joined her on the platform. Ranma took a deep breath and relaxed, resting her arms at her sides. They bowed to each other, then waited for the signal to begin.

At the signal, Blossom came out swinging, eager to win this once and for all. Ranma simply advanced a couple of steps to give herself room, assumed an extremely non-combative stance, and started dodging - much to Blossom's chagrin. Bonbori swings and kicks were countered by ducks and jumps rather than hard blocks.

"Attack me, dammit! Attack me!!" Blossom's cries came at the same time as a desperate, foolish thrust, one designed to push Ranma off of the platform. Ranma took the opportunity at face value, using it to vault over her opponent, landing right behind her. She then thrust out a finger, touching Blossom on the back, near her right shoulder blade.

Blossom's eyes widened as the bonbori slipped out of her numb, useless hand. A dark, sinking feeling spread through her as she experimentally cradled her right arm, confirming its paralysis. Ranma chose not to attack further, instead choosing to stare oh-so-innocently back at her with her wide, big blue eyes and a friendly smile.

"Blossom? You okay?"

"I'm fine, outsider," Blossom growled, modifying her combat stance to compensate. She launched at Ranma again, feet and fist flying, only to meet empty air. Ranma vaulted over her again, this time touching a spot near her left shoulder blade. Blossom's left arm dropped to her side, as useless as her right one.

"Blossom? You give up now, okay?"

"Never!" Turning around, Blossom tried a kick at Ranma - one extremely off-balance, due to her arms. A sweep-kick and a grab later, and Blossom hung in midair, helpless, eyes wide at Ranma's now-serious gaze. She winced as the clenched fist approached...

"You lose." Stopping her fist, Ranma let go, allowing Blossom to fall safely to earth. She then leapt off the platform herself, only to be surrounded by something she hadn't expected: cheers. After releasing Blossom's paralysis, she let her arm be raised in victory, enjoying the moment.

Blossom banged her fist into the ground, the anger starting to overwhelm her. She got up, rudely pushed her way through the mob, advancing toward her adversary. She got close... touched her chin... approached her cheek...

"Don't even think about it, Blossom."

Blossom stopped, her lips a centimeter away from contact. She knew the owner of that voice all too well. "Stay out of this, old woman. This does not concern you."

Cologne looked almost amused at the comment. "Oh, but it does, Blossom. Ranma is a full member of this village... and my heir. As such, if you go after her, I have no choice but to go after you."

The old woman then began whispering in Blossom's ear. The youth turned white as a sheet, her body stiff from fear.

"V-very well, Hibachan. While you live, I will not harm her... or any of the others you have admitted into the village." Unable to contain herself any longer, she ran from the crowd, seeking refuge in her own home.

Ranma grabbed Cologne's shoulders, concern beginning to replace the exhilaration of victory. "Ukyou?"

Cologne smiled. "Hurt...but she'll live. Concussion, broken bones, cracked ribs... she'll be out for awhile."

"Thank goodness. I... Hibachan... thanks." She reached out and embraced her new mentor, thankful... for everything.

*************************************************************************

The sunlight gleam from Blossom's bonbori faded to a dim lamp's glow as Ukyou woke up from her forced slumber. A soft groan escaped from her throat as she took in her many aches and pains. Fighting the pain, she raised her head, desperate to see her surroundings.

Her new family, all of them, were asleep, sprawled around in the room with her. Nodoka and Nabiki rested peacefully in cots, while Genma and Cologne slept not-so-peacefully in chairs. She smiled as she saw Ranma asleep next to her, her head resting next to her one good leg, the rest of her body sprawled in a chair, their hands held together. Next to the table lamp, food - the modern yaki she had made for the tournament - waited to be eaten in celebration.

Ukyou rested her head back on the pillow, tears of joy running down her face, happy that, for the first time in months, something - a very important something - had finally gone their way. She fell back asleep, taking comfort - security - in the intimate handhold.

**************************************************************************

2009 author's notes:

The circumstances behind writing this one were... odd. First of all, I wrote the work in what was, for all intents and purposes, a vacuum. I was stuck without any real computer access for the summer of 1996; I planned on writing (by hand!) some story ideas I had, had non-computer contact with a few people, and could on rare occasions go up to the nearby community college to check on a few things, but for the most part I had no computer access from roughly May 15 to August 30. Two results came of this:

1. I missed a lot of the major changes that happened to the Ranma fanfic community in the summer of '96

2. I had a lot of work to start releasing once I got back.

This work prompted a colleague some weeks after its release to comment that I use a LOT of ellipses. I tried to clean it up a little bit, without taking away from the original work. That was the main change from the original version; I also did the usual spelling corrections. Overall, though, the work is pretty much identical to the original in terms of content.

The original thanks, from 1996:

Thanks to...

Rumiko Takahashi, for creating this magical world called Ranma 1/2.

All those on the ML, in particular John Biles and Chris Willmore, without whom I probably would have lost my mind sometime in July.

To my ex-roommate, Doug, for talking about the 'fics with me, at a time when I desperately needed it.

To all those who have sent their comments.

Original version: September 3, 1996

Version sent to fanfiction dot net: February 18, 2009


	2. Ch 2: Happiness

_Looking back on it, I'm surprised that we were able to integrate into the village so smoothly. Mom had sold her old place, and used the money to build a house - modest, but large enough to fit all of us snugly. Cologne preferred that I stay close by, so it was built only a stone's throw away, on some land given to us by her. Ukyou, Nabiki, and I all lived in the house for awhile once it was built, but eventually moved on._

_Nabiki had maintained her various business contacts after moving to the village, and found them to be quite useful. She started out by working from the house, purchasing on order only, buying goods wholesale from Japan and importing them here. After a few years of this, she opened her own store, selling anything and everything the village couldn't supply on its own. When she wasn't working on her business or her studies, she was training, her skills improving at a frightening rate. Personally, I think it was just her way of dealing with her grief - burying it under a pile of of work, then exorcising a bit of it through her training._

_Ukyou got off to a slower start, due to her injuries. But, once she recovered, there was no stopping her. The yatai became a popular place in the village, providing cheap, good food as well as a meeting place to discuss crops, fighting styles, or anything else on the minds of the villagers. Needless to say, I hung out here often, to sample Ucchan's cooking, as well as to get to know these people better, to prove to them that I wasn't some fly-by-night jerk, there only for my own purposes._

_After the defeat, Blossom grew even more embittered, letting her anger for me drive a wedge between herself and the village. She ceased to take an active role in the village, only showing up when it came time for the tournament. To be honest, I couldn't blame her - only pity her. To her, we would always be outsiders - outsiders who had let Shampoo die and had usurped her place of honor in the community._

_It wasn't until the grand opening of Ucchan's, when **he** returned to the village, that we realized how bitter she was - and the lengths she would go to to satiate that bitterness._

-- Excerpt from Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th Leader of the Nyuchiezu.

***************************************************************************

Happi-ness

Part the Second of the Sunrise Chronicles.

All relevant characters property of Rumiko Takahashi. All rights reserved. I must ask that you not do anything with this work without the author's permission.

Note: this story takes place roughly three years after the first part of "Sunrise Chronicles" and five years before the events in "Sunrise".

****************************************************************************

"Kirei..."

"I told you it was worth the climb."

From the top of Mount Phoenix, the vast expanse of the Chinese countryside stretched out before Ukyou Kuonji, its intricate beauty literally taking her breath away. She stared, eyes wide in amazement, at the villages appearing like anthills below, the endless rice paddies, the forests, the entire area an impossibly-detailed map beneath her gaze. Ranma stood next to her, holding her hand, her heart jumping at the glow in the young cook's dark eyes.

"I found this little spot after our battle with Saffron. They used this place as their lookout point: from here, they could spy on every village, every villager... anything of interest to them. Let's see... Nyuchiezu should be right... there." Ranma pointed to a secluded, rather unassuming village nearby. Her eyes scanned the area, her hand shifting to other points of interest. "And there's Shiyuan... Jusenkyo... Linshao..."

"What's that place over there?" Ukyou interrupted, pointing to a large, imposing castle situated on a nearby mountain.

A shadow seemed to creep over Ranma's face as she noticed the object of Ukyou's attention. Her voice, previously jovial and animated, was now hard, subdued, as though she were insulted by the sentinel's existence. "That, Ukyou, is the fortress of the Musk Dynasty, home to Lord Herb - and the Kaisuifuu."

Ukyou's look was one of shock as she turned apologetically to her companion. "I'm sorry, Ranchan... I... I didn't know..."

"It's okay, Ucchan." She reached out to embrace her friend, letting her know no offense was taken, her voice taking on a tone wiser than her twenty years. "It's okay. There's no way you could have known."

At this, she noticed the warrior tense up ever so slightly, imperceptible to those who didn't know her. "What is it, Ranma? I hope I didn't..."

Ranma laughed softly, a grim smile on her face. "No, Ucchan. It's nothing you did. It's just... you'll think I'm crazy..."

"I already think that, Ranchan."

"Gee, thanks..." Ranma whispered, her tone sarcastic. She sat down on the peak, inviting Ukyou to take a seat next to her. The okonomiyaki chef sat down, concerned, as Ranma looked out at the countryside, taking her hand in a fierce grip.

"Ucchan, you know that warning, that prickling feeling that comes when you sense an attack coming? Well, I've been having that same feeling for the past few days or so. Something bad is going to happen..."

She turned back to Ukyou, taking a long moment to take in the details of her face. She was older now, and leaner, her face hardened by the warrior's life she now led. The last baby fat had disappeared from her body, bringing out her cheekbones and other features of her face. Truly a beauty...

"Ranchan, you awake? Earth to Ranma..."

Ukyou waved a hand in front of the entranced woman's face, in an effort to draw her back to reality. Ranma blushed slightly, embarrassed at the nature of her thoughts, then turned her attention back to the conversation. "Anyway, be careful out there, especially with Ucchan's opening in a few days."

"Th-thanks, Ranchan," Ukyou blurted, realizing what had captured her friend's attention. She tightened her grip, giving the hand a fierce, reassuring squeeze. "You too, okay?"

"Have I ever not?"

An elegantly curved eyebrow arched on Ukyou's face, humorously incredulous. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

***************************************************************************

Nabiki Tendo stood at full combat stance, the late-morning wind blowing through her shoulder-length brown hair, her blue-gray Chinese-style blouse and slacks flapping under its gentle, inexorable pressure. The dark eyes flared, a small amount of annoyance blended with a typical fight intensity. Her refined features were etched into a scowl as she eyed her opponent carefully, wary of any surprises.

"Gel, please. I don't want to hurt you."

The young man's grey eyes lit up from behind the glasses, mistaking the woman's compassion for affection. He wore a long white robe, in a style similar to that of his late brother. Short black hair framed his long, noble face, adorned with a thin scar from a long-forgotten childhood battle. "So you _do_ care for me!" With this cry, Gel launched at the businesswoman, seeking to conquer her heart through combat.

For Nabiki, the combat strategy was a simple one: Use speed to slip inside his defenses, take away his sight, then mercifully pummel him into submission. She got in, using Ranma's Chestnut Fist to take the glasses right from his face. Sensing his momentary indecision, she readied herself for the roundhouse kick to finish the battle.

A small commotion to her left caught her attention for a moment, forcing her to turn to its source. Her eyes showed worry as the all-too-familiar scene played itself out, her mind calculating the possible repercussions of the event, as an angry mob of women ran by, chasing...

"Now I've got you!" Sensing the small pressure wave at the side of her head, she ducked, narrowly avoiding Gel's strike, then sweep-kicked, tripping him up. She quickly knocked him out, finishing the bout, and then stared at the peace in the young man's face, quietly wishing she had time for such things.

A long moment later, the young woman ran at full speed for the village, desperate to catch up to the mob. If she was right, Ranma would need help very soon...

***************************************************************************

Ucchan's opened its doors for the first time with a flurry of activity, its decor looking amazingly similar, yet somehow different, to the original. The overall setup was identical: upon entering, grill to the left side, stools in front of the grill, tables and chairs taking up the rest. What was different was the decor of the place, and the overall feel. The walls were wood, rather than the stucco of Tokyo, as was the floor and furniture, giving the restaurant a cozy, homecoming atmosphere missing from the more sterile original.

As for business, most of the regular customers from the yatai were there, as well as a few newcomers, lured by the new store and the special "opening day" prices. The store owner handled the orders with a speed born of years of practice, casually chatting with the guests as she worked her magic. Ranma, as a favor to a friend, acted as waitress for the day, easing some of the work from Ukyou's back.

"No, personally, I don't think the bonbori is a good attacking weapon," Ukyou chimed, discussing melee combat with a young regular, "Think about it: no sharp edge and only modest reach improvements. Now my spatula, on the other hand..."

"Aiyaah!!"

"Pervert!!"

A small blur sped into the little shop, grabbing a piece of okonomiyaki from the grill, as well as a quick feel of Ukyou's bosom, arousing the young cook's anger. The blur was soon followed by a dozen armed Amazons, bloodlust in their eyes, ready to carve the offending speed demon into tiny pieces. Senses on alert, Ukyou pulled out one of her spatulas, waited for the right moment, then launched it at a seemingly random point in the air.

* Thwap *

The spatula hit its mark, snagging the creature by his clothes and pinning him to the wall. A collective shudder went through the group as they gazed on Ukyou's catch.

He was an old, dwarfish individual, of roughly Cologne's age and size. The lights from the restaurant glinted off of the generous bald spot on his head. Drool dripped from his mouth as his perverted gaze shifted from one woman to another, until finally focusing on the restaurant's enflamed wait staff.

"Happousai." Ranma spat the name out, as though it were poison, not bothering to hide her disgust at the master of the Anything-Goes School.

"Ranma." A strange smile formed on the old man's face: a soft, confident grin that sent chills down Ranma's spine. The young lady gripped a hand on a chair, struggling to maintain her composure.

"So. Will you be in town long?"

"Oh, most definitely, Ranma, most defin-" He stopped at a small movement from Ranma, his head cocking to one side. His eyes seemed to glow with lust. "Ranma... you're wearing a bra, aren't you?"

"Yeah? What of it?"

Happousai pulled the spatula (and, by extension, himself) from the wall, landing gingerly on his feet. His face twisted further, into a mask of almost childlike joy, as his eyes locked onto his desired target. "Really? Let me feel!"

The spatula whizzed straight at Ranma's face, forcing her to duck slightly to avoid it. This left a small opening, one which Happousai quickly took advantage of.

"YAAAAH! You... hentai..." Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, Ranma ripped the old lech off of her chest, violently throwing him out the door and into the street. Stepping out to join him, the warrior moved into a fighting stance, ready for another assault.

"Ranma, I'm impressed. You've certainly filled out some since we last met." Happousai stood calmly outside in the daylight, not making any move to advance. The two faced each other like gunfighters, wary, ready to counter the slightest move.

Ranma's face was a bright shade of crimson as the embarrassment from the undesired violation turned into rage. "What do you want, hentai?" she growled.

Happousai's smile broadened, extending out to its full width. Only one possibility could make the pervert _this_ happy...

"You." He assumed a fighting stance. "Ranma, I challenge you - for the right to your hand in marriage."

"WHAT?!?"

"Marriage. You are a Nyuchiezu, after all." He pulled a lingerie set from out of his gi and threw it to Ranma, who reluctantly caught it. "For our wedding night, cutie. Now defend yourself!" He launched himself full-bore at Ranma, seeking a quick ending - and even faster wedding.

"Wait!" A familiar figure stepped in between the two, inevitably getting felt up in the process. Happousai looked up at the figure... then fell down to the earth in surprise.

"Uh... hello, Nabiki."

Never let it be said that business experience is without its uses. Nabiki remained calm, her voice purring as she faced down the old lech. "Master, wouldn't it be better for you to fight a more... formal duel? It would certainly allow you to prove your prowess - your manhood - in front of the whole village. Think of how impressed the women would be at your victory."

"Well..."

"Shall we say... tomorrow at noon?" Ever the ready businesswoman, she took out a pen and small notebook from a pocket and started taking notes. "That will give us enough time to prepare."

Happousai twirled a set of panties in his hand, lost in his own thoughts. "Well, I can probably afford to wait a day... Very well, I accept. Tomorrow at noon, then." Bowing slightly, he sent a leering glance Ranma's way before leaving. "I'll be waiting..."

The heir to the Nyuchiezu leadership, now free to vent some emotions, just stood there, enraged beyond the point of words, as though she looked ready to spontaneously combust at any moment. Her face, an unnatural shade of purple, was hardened into a devil's mask from her rage as she watched the old man leave.

"I'll just add that to your tab, Ranma." Nabiki turned around, flashing her trademark conciliatory smile at the demoness. This seemed to calm Ranma down some; she gained enough of her senses to mumble a weak goodbye, then mechanically walked back to her home, the lingerie still clutched in an angry grip.

************************************************************************

_How dare he?_

_Howdarehehowdarehehowdarehehowdare-_

_Huh?_

A gentle hand touched Ranma's shoulder as she brooded over her predicament, calling her back from the unpleasant mental tirade. Her mother, in her usual grace, sat down next to her, taking her daughter's clenched fist into her own. A rare flash of anger smouldered in the elder's dark, expressive eyes.

"I understand that Happousai paid you a visit."

"Uh... you could say that, Mom." The younger lady's face twisted, bile rising in her throat as she replayed the moments in her mind. "The old lech challenged me for my hand in marriage."

"I see..." Nodoka's soft lips hardened, holding back waves of fury. Her soft voice, unusually calm for the situation, held only the slightest touch of a nervous flutter. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Ranma shook her head in frustration. "I dunno, Mom. If I lose..."

"You won't lose, Ranma." She moved a delicate hand up to her daughter's chin, forcing her up to eye level. "Remember: there are always options."

"Even if I lose?"

"Even if you lose. As long as you don't let the old master get to you, you can always remain in control of the situation."

Ranma shook her head, quietly voicing her negative. "Not with that freak." She grabbed her mother's hand from her chin, moving it down onto the table.

"When... when Happousai first reappeared, I was already cursed. One of his favorite tricks was to splash me, then latch on."

The bitter venom laced in Ranma's voice sent chills down Nodoka's spine. "Do you know how... how humiliating that was? I was a _guy_, not a girl, and there I was, feminine and too weak to stop him. Every time he did that, it was like... like..."

The true head of the Saotome clan nodded, placing a finger on Ranma's lips to calm them, then managed a wry smile. "Did I ever tell you about the one time that Happousai touched me?"

"One time?" Ranma looked at her mother, incredulous, but now smiling.

"One time." Nodoka's smile broadened.

"When your father and I first met, he was already training under Happousai. Back then, your father was more impulsive - and protective. In fact, the only time he ever stood up to the old master was when I was involved. He ordered the old man never to touch me under any circumstances."

"Time passed. We got married, Soun and Naoko married, and we all settled down in Nerima. He still never tried anything... until you were born."

"A couple of days after I returned from the hospital, I was busy making breakfast when Happousai dropped in for a visit." She blushed slightly. "My breasts had swelled up, due to the childbirth, and... the old lech couldn't control himself. One look at me, and he was launching my way, ready to latch on."

"He hit his target, all right. The master spent a few seconds feeling me - then he felt the knife at his throat, at which point I calmly asked him never to do it again. He let go, and has never made another attempt."

Her smile was broad as she matched Ranma's now-laughing gaze. "Now do you know how to deal with Happousai?"

She nodded. "I guess, though I might not be as merciful as you were."

A soft, grim laughter echoed through the house as Nodoka took in the half-joking possibilities of her daughter's words. "Well, it's about time someone taught him some manners."

"Manners? Hmmm..." Ranma stopped, deep in thought.

"What is it, child?"

Mischief, intense and childlike, glittered in the warrior's eyes. "Let's just say I've got a way to teach him some manners."

***************************************************************************

The dark blur that had so invaded Ucchan's earlier bounded from house to house, cackling with delight as he took what he desired (ladies' lingerie) and touched what he desired (the former owners of said clothing). The setting sun cast an eerie, ethereal shadow around the old lech, silhouetting his small form, making him appear as formidable as he actually was.

"Happousai..."

"Sweeto!" Happousai took one look at the source of the voice, and the hormones took over. Blossom stood on a nearby house, mile-long legs, hairpin curves and all, seductively beckoning for him. She wore a _short_ Chinese-cut minidress, which, with her long black hair blowing in the wind, left the old lech wondering if this was some dream. He dropped his bag, made a beeline for the goddess, latched on... then realized this was no dream.

A lifetime's worth of martial arts discipline came in handy as Blossom fought the urge to keep from pounding the offending male to a small bloody pulp. Her voice shook only slightly, her emotions somehow held in check despite the compromising position. "Pardon me, but would you please get off of me? We have important matters to discuss, concerning Ranma."

Not quite used to the polite, calm approach, Happousai let go, eyeing the Amazon suspiciously. "Very well. What have you to discuss?"

Blossom raised a hand to her collar to unbutton the top of her dress, nearly causing the aged martial-arts master to lose all control. She reached inside, pulled out a small packet, and tossed the package to the old warrior.

"This is a special repellant. It works like tear gas, except it affects only women. Men can't smell it."

Happousai gazed skeptically at the package, memories of a long-ago fight returning to him. "Ranma already put some on me once, to get revenge on me. It was horrible. I couldn't touch any pretty ladies..."

"Think about it. With the repellant, Ranma will either run from the stench, or be distracted by it. Either way, she's yours."

The pervert chewed an ancient thumbnail thoughtfully, silently taking in the possibilities. "...I will, on one condition. Before the match, I get to feel you once, without fear of reprisal."

The bile started to rise in Blossom's throat as she thought of his touch. "Deal," she spat out, disgusted with his presence, and turned to leave.

"Wait."

She stopped, turning around to face Happousai's quizzical gaze.

"Why?"

A slow, private smile crept across Blossom's face. "Isn't it obvious? You two are made for each other." Unable to tolerate him any longer, she jumped down to the ground and left.

****************************************************************************

Night has a way of clearing the mind... its emptiness providing a blank slate for the mind to write on, its dim luminescence giving a pleasant, contemplative beauty. The cool wind soothes the heat and pains of the day, relaxing the body and giving it rest. It is, in many ways, the perfect time and place to contemplate a difficult decision.

Mouthwash was a true child of the village, a Nyuchiezu warrior of the next century. Like any young person, she idolized the older, phenomenally skilled warriors of the village, religiously studied their moves and training, and tried to take those lessons into herself. For her sixth birthday, she had received a beautiful gift: child-size bonbori, to train and fight with, just like her idols: Shampoo and Blossom. The next year, she watched the tournament, and cried when Shampoo fell to defeat, at the hands of a mysterious outsider. She cried just as hard when news of Shampoo's death reached the village.

The other idol, Blossom...

She watched Blossom train more rigorously than ever, excited, proud to be the new heir. There was no doubt it would be her: Cologne's line needed a new heir, and Blossom was the best in the village.

The coming of the outsiders was an unexpected event, one that no warrior could have foreseen. It rocked the village, threatening to tear it asunder. And, like the other villagers, she viewed them with distrust and suspicion, primarily the Jusenkyo-cursed one called "Ranma", who had beaten Shampoo so long ago. Indeed, so great was her hatred that she challenged the redheaded warrior, knowing full well it would only lead to her defeat, but knowing of no other way to handle the situation.

Then the tournament came - and she came to realize the folly of her hatred. Blossom, the star of the village, used her own hatred to commit a horrendous act, one which should be beneath any warrior: Striking a defeated foe. She, like Shampoo before her, eventually fell to defeat, to the warrior named Ranma.

Her heart broke a little that day. Now it was breaking a lot.

Blossom, once again acting out of blind hatred, had now committed a crime against honor. Interference with a formal challenge was punishable by banishment or death - if the village found out. Unfortunately, only three people knew about it, and at least two weren't talking.

Right now, as she tried to lose herself in the night stars, as the cool wind blew the long royal-blue hair across her face, Mouthwash wished that Blossom had died in battle, alongside Shampoo, rather than dishonor herself like this.

**************************************************************************

Cologne sat alone in the silence of her home, quietly poring through an ancient tome, desperate (if Cologne could ever be called that) to push the events of the day out of her mind. She had watched and worried, from a safe and separating distance, as Happousai and Ranma squared off outside of Ucchan's, only to sigh in relief at Nabiki's rescue. She had thought of going to talk to her pupil about it, but thought better when she saw her and her mother together. She envied Nodoka that; for all the wisdom she would give Ranma, for all the caring and support she could show, she would always be "only" a mentor, a friend... not a mother. She missed that...

A knocking at the door. Two quick raps, then another one, rang in her ears, like a tune lost to time.

"Come in, Happi."

The old lech walked in, his typical bag of goodies slung behind him. He looked rather sheepish as he entered Cologne's manor. "Hello, Cologne-chan. Howd'ya know it was me?"

She smiled, though the curt tone in her voice belied the volcano within. "Who else could it be? It's the middle of the night, and you have no place to stay. So, knowing you wouldn't be welcome at the Saotome home, you came here. Am I right?"

Happousai nodded, seeing the anger building in her eyes. "Cologne-chan..."

Cologne clenched a fist, trying to hold back decades of frustration. "Don't call me that!" she hissed, spitting out her fire at the old man. "What you're doing is... is..."

She calmed herself down, desperate to maintain a civil tongue for a moment longer. Her tone, no longer furious, was still hard, unforgiving. "I... know why you're doing this. I've always known why. But understand this: Ranma is MINE now, in every way but flesh and blood. If you win, and you do ANYTHING to hurt her, there won't be enough left of you to cremate."

The matriarch sighed, letting the remaining fire within her escape. "You can use the second bedroom. Upstairs, second door on the right."

Happousai stood there, struggling to find his speech. "Th-thanks, Cologne." He turned to go up to his room, his shoulders slumped from the verbal lashing.

"Happi..."

He turned around. Cologne stood, facing away, tears falling on her tome. "Have you ever thought about... what might have been?"

For once, Happousai was silent. The only glow in his eyes was the gentle shimmer of forming tears. "All the time, Cologne-chan... all the time."

The only sounds in the house for the rest of the night were the tired footsteps of an old man... and the screaming of the silence.

****************************************************************************

Ranma stood out in the open center of the village, her form that curious mix of pure calm and alertness common among experienced martial artists. For the first time in months, she wore the typical scarlet she wore in Nerima, as though raising an old battle standard, although there were two additions to her attire. A small canteen hung from her waist, waiting to be used, and, more importantly, a familiar yellow-and-black bandanna was tied loosely around her neck, a memento from a long-departed friend.

She turned her eyes to the heavens, frowning, as she evaluated the weather. Dangerous clouds were moving in, their presence warning of an oncoming storm. The cool wind blew in with the clouds, sending a small chill through her, -

Huh? * sniff, sniff *

Happousai stepped out into the open air, at roughly the same time that everyone else stepped out. The warriors ran from his presence, seeking their homes, another village... _anything_ to get away from the sewer-garbage stench violating their throat and nostrils. The few men who had come to watch stayed, bewildered at the inexplicable behavior of the women. The lech just stood there for a moment, leering at the primary object of his desire, expecting his victory at any moment. "Hello, Ranma."

Ranma held her breath, blinking as she fought the tears forming in her eyes. She quickly took off the bandanna, poured water from the canteen on it, and wrapped the cloth around her mouth and nose, partially filtering the obnoxious fumes from her lungs. The Nyuchiezu warrior then assumed a fighting stance. "Come on."

Happousai blinked, surprised. "How did you..."

"Lesson number one: Never hold a private conversation in the open air. Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there?"

"Very well, Ranma..." The pervert launched at Ranma with frightening speed, gambling she'd still be somewhat disoriented by the repellant, hoping for a quick knockout. Expecting the attack, Ranma dodged, then grabbed hold of his hand, flipping him high into the air. She waited patiently for the lech to come down - unharmed, unfortunately.

"Lesson number two: Never let your opponent goad you into a foolish attack," Ranma hissed from behind the mask, her tone condescending.

Happousai nodded, grudgingly accepting Ranma's improved skill. "Very good, Ranma. I see you haven't forgotten your Anything-Goes training." He warily edged to one side, then launched himself into the air. "Happodaikarin!!"

Ranma backflipped as the bombs started raining down, narrowly placing herself out of the mini-arclight's range. Once the smoke cleared, she reached a hand up to the top of her shirt, hesitatingly undoing each button as Happousai looked on with increasing fascination.

A gentle smile found its way to the old man's face as she slipped the shirt from her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. It was the lingerie set - the one he had given her the day before. Unable to resist such a target, he leapt in, ready to glomp.

"Mouko Takabisha!" Ranma's confidence flared out of her hands, hitting the lech full-force. Happousai flew back, his body impacting with a nearby wall with a sickening crunch. He appeared dazed, hurt, as he staggered back into the fight.

"Lesson number three: Never walk into an obvious trap, unless you have to."

"Ranma..." The young warrior's eyes narrowed as Happousai started to _grow_, his ki-energy radiating outward to project a thirty-foot high monster version of himself. The giant struck at Ranma with a mammoth hand, missing her by centimeters, creating a large crater in its wake.

Then, as the giant Happousai prepared for another strike, the image began to fade. His face grew tired as the ki-energy dissipated, evaporating until all that was left was a semiconscious, dried-up husk of a man.

Ranma ran over, picked up the twitching mass, then touched a Shiatsu spot before he could recover. "Time to wash you off..." She checked the wind, hefted him for a moment to get the balance, then punted him, American football-style, far from the confines of the village. Satisfied at her victory, she stared at the departing martial-arts master, taking off her mask, the harsh whisper in her throat laced with pent-up determination and fury.

"Lesson number zero: Never, _ever_ challenge me for my hand in marriage." Sensing the presence of others, she shot a deadly look at the remaining male spectators. "Got that?"

The men, understanding the veiled threat in the words, nodded meekly.

****************************************************************************

Blossom gave her thumbnail serious abuse as she watched the events of the battle unfold from a safe distance. As if Happousai's touch wasn't bad enough... _(shudder)_... Ranma wasn't as fazed by the repellant as she had expected, and was repulsing his attacks with disturbing ease. Worse, if the village suspected -

"Hello, Blossom."

She turned around to the ancient voice, an ugly feeling of dread spreading through her. Cologne, ever the chieftain, stood at the front of a small group of warriors. The young Amazon looked from face to face, at the solemn expressions, their dark eyes... they knew.

"Elder, I can explain-"

"And what explanation would you give for your actions?" Cologne looked almost amused at the imbecilic comment.

Knowing her fate, knowing that no words could help her now, Blossom bowed her head. "What I did... I did in the best interests of the village."

"Perhaps." The old woman sighed, not wishing to soil her hands on such a distasteful task. "Unfortunately for you, I am the one who decides what is best for the village."

Cologne's gaze locked with Blossom's, the frightening intensity of her eyes in full bloom. "Blossom, leave now. Pack enough for a long training journey. You will not be coming back - not while I live."

"As you wish." She curtsied to the Nyuchiezu chieftain, her motions a sarcastic royal pantomime. She then straightened back up to her full six feet. "But know this: When you have left this place, I will return - to send your precious Ranma to join you."

Cologne nodded. "I would expect nothing less. It is a shame to see a good warrior die so young, particularly one of your caliber."

Silence hung over the group as Blossom was escorted to her home, then out of the village. No tears were shed, no words were said. Blossom would be as one dead to the village: never to be spoken to, or seen, or even mentioned... until Cologne's death.

****************************************************************************

"So... you tried to get the pervert to use up as much ki-energy as possible, then punted him away when he ran out." Nabiki put a piece of food in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"Mm-hmm." Ranma, her mouth full, glowed with exhilaration from her victory.

"So where'd you punt him to?"

The young heir swallowed her food, then smiled broadly, reminding Nabiki disturbingly of the lech so recently defeated.

****************************************************************************

Happousai dreamed...

A fog seemed to surround him, shrouding his world in a sea of whitish-grey.

Then, from the formless mist, shapes began to appear, hazy at first, then with more focus. Figures moved from the fog toward him, familiar people from his life. Akane rubbed her hands against his chest in passing, her forever-young, lithe form wrapped only in a silk negligee. Cologne, a young Cologne, came for him, her body clad only in a simple bra and panties. Natsume held him close, running her fingers through his sparse hair, a lace teddy hugging her near-perfect body. Other women were there, watching over him... all of them dressed in white. Alabaster skin wrapped in sunlight... They held him close, caressing him, beckoning for him...

"Happousai..."

A new figure emerged from the fog, her very presence driving away the other ladies nearby. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them, to confirm the sight of heaven (or hell) before him.

It was Ranma, in her now-permanent girl body, though if her clothing were any indication, she wasn't made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Her next-to-nothings consisted of a lace bra, panties, garter belt with stockings, and spike heels... black. All black. The other women faded away, going back into the void, leaving only her.

"Come to me..." she whispered, her voice a siren's call to the old man. Unable to resist the summons, he floated to her.

"Let us be together... forever..." She held him tightly to her chest, moaning in pleasure as he felt her perfect curves...the textures...

She picked him up from her chest, and began to approach his face, his form twitching in anticipation. Their lips grew closer...he felt the first whisper of contact...

* SPLASH *

****************************************************************************

2009 notes:

I left the notes from 1996 largely as is, because there's one thing to expand on from it.

I'd written the Sunrise Chronicles in four parts - but had the "This must be written" feel for only three of them. Needless to say, it was the other three. As a result, this one tended to feel a little different from the others - maybe a bit more lighthearted. But, also... I had more problems with what scenes to add and what scenes to put in with this than I did with any other work in the series.

1996 notes and thanks:

For those who saw the early drafts and the possible scenes to add, I decided not to add the last scene I posted to the early list, as it probably would have shattered the mood of the 'fic. It will make another appearance, though, as part of the beginning of part 3, "Chapels and Cemeteries". As several people will attest, I was rather nervous about this project, and considered adding several scenes to it. Eventually I added all but that last one, as they did add a lot to the story.

Thanks...

To Rumiko Takahashi, creator of the dream.

To the ML and the early list, in particular Skywise, Stormwalker, John Biles, and Chris Willmore, for their help and wisdom.

To anyone who has sent in their comments on the earlier parts of this (or the later parts, depending on how you look at it).

If you're interested in reading early drafts of my work before they get sent to the ML or to RAAC, I have an early mailing list. Drop me a message if you're interested.

As always, C&C is appreciated.

Goodnight, all.

Original release: October 17, 1996

Release to fanfiction dot net: February 21, 2009


	3. Ch 3: Home

_Aoi-chan asked me an interesting question earlier today. 'Auntie Nabiki said she and Uncle Gel were going home to visit her family,' she said. I confirmed her information, of course._

_Then she asked me, 'But I thought her home was here.'_

_I smiled at this, as the question was intimate to me. 'Aoi-chan,' I said, pointing to Nabiki's house and store, 'the building over there is a house. What makes it a home is when you leave a part of your heart there. Nabiki spent most of her life in Tokyo with her father and sisters, and will always consider that place a home.'_

_My little one thought about this for a moment. 'Then where's my home?'_

_My smile widened. 'Hopefully, your home is here, with me and Ucchan. Fortunately for us, so is mine.' I then held her close and hugged her with all the love a parent could, and let her go, knowing someday she would find a home of her own and leave._

-from Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th Chieftain of the Nyuchiezu.

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Home

Part the Third of the Sunrise Chronicles.

All relevant characters property of Rumiko Takahashi. All other characters property of me. I beg pardon if the powers that be take offense. I must ask that you not do anything with this story or any part of it without permission from the author.

This story takes place roughly five years after the events in "Sunrise Chronicles pt. 1", and three years before the events in "Sunrise".

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Fall had come to the cursed place of Jusenkyo, bringing with it a slight nip to the air, as well as the beginnings of the decay normally associated with winter. A hazy fog laid low over the land, calling to mind the ghosts that called the pools of sorrow home. A light from the nearby hut shone across the place, a beacon for those unfortunate to discover the secrets beneath the water.

A figure stood sentinel alone in the mist, her small form statuesque in its dignity. She was old, venerable without being decrepit, with long silver hair rustling in the small breeze, and eyes shining with hard-earned wisdom. A black cloak fit over her green robes to shield her from the cold. The lady was perched precariously on top of a gnarled staff, silent as she stood watch over a modest grave. Foreign visitors might be foolish enough to disturb her respects, but the locals knew better.

This was _Cologne_, after all, the hard, stern leader of the Nyuchiezu. Awakening her anger here was tantamount to suicide - or worse.

Her watch was a daily ritual now. In some respects, she blamed herself for the tragedy. If only she'd killed Blossom outright rather than exile... if only she'd intervened in the fight...

If only.

If only Ranma had never gone to Jusenkyo, or Herb had declined to bring the Chisuiton. She knew better than to think like that. Such past regrets were useless. All she could do was mourn the past, and plan for the future.

The old woman closed her eyes for a moment, and remembered...a young man, with passion burning like starlight and a warrior's heart to match. In a heartbeat, the face aged, but not the soul; somehow, the curses that had buffeted her own life had spared him, leaving him as youthful as ever, until... until this place handed him a curse, and an enemy to match.

"Young pupils who envy the wisdom of the aged masters, the survivors of constant battles, will either die never knowing of the pain of bringing that wisdom to flower... or they will share in that pain as they join their ranks." The masters' dilemma, a proverb from the early days of the village, rang through her head often now. All that was left were survivors - mourners twisted by grief and turned from their destined path. She herself had endured the loss of nearly everyone around her, from husbands and siblings to old flames and great-granddaughters. And now...

She leapt from her perch in an elegant bound, and dried what few tears escaped. There was precious little time to give to the dead, and the living needed far more help.

*****************************************************************************

Ranma may not have been born to work in a kitchen, but she definitely knew her way around it. A pot simmered on the stove, providing a sweet aroma that called to empty stomachs. Various herbs and spices sat open on a counter, as well as an old, thick notebook. Other bowls sat ready nearby, waiting for their turn under the fire.

It was almost a shame the young warrior wasn't cooking food.

The heir to Cologne's knowledge was engaged in an important practice for her adopted role in life: herbal mixture and preparation. She had not taken this part of her work seriously at first, as it reminded her a bit too much of chem classes in school. Over time, though, she had come to accept it as an integral part of her training, and had even come to enjoy the quiet subtlety of the art.

The recipe she had chosen to start the day was a strange one, a difficult potion found in one of Cologne's notebooks. The mandrake and siren's hair reminded her of the dreaded Formula 110, but there were other ingredients thrown in: ginseng, nightshade...witch hazel? Ever curious, the warrior went to work, and mixed the formula to the letter. After that, she whipped up a batch of cold remedy, as she expected its use over the next few weeks.

Ranma had taken care to follow the instructions to the most exacting detail, but still couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Call it intuition (NOT feminine intuition, thank you very much), but she had a nagging feeling that the formula wasn't going to work. Too many powerful herbs clashing together usually left a useless pile of goo - or a dangerously toxic one. Nevertheless, if Cologne prepared it, there had to be a reason. So, she waited for the solution to thicken and cool, then poured the gel into a waiting container. The heir turned back to the table where the cold medicine waited, and picked up the bowl. She put a hand to the notebook to turn to the formula - and stopped.

It wasn't the writing on the paper which had captured the young lady's attention. She had read the words several times over, to lock the recipe in her mind. Rather, it was the feel of the paper itself, an old sheet beginning to yellow with age. There were small rough spots dotting the paper, as though either rain had fallen on the sheet... or tears had.

***************************************************************************

Two Amazon blurs flew through the Chinese countryside as sunset threatened, their attacks forming an impossibly-beautiful ballet in the twilight. Cologne and Ranma played a fun game of sparring cat-and-mouse, the elder retreating and flank-attacking to try to catch her young protege off-balance, while the younger, her eyes blindfolded, leapt in seemingly random patterns from place to place, never allowing the old woman a viable target for very long, and only occasionally went in for the attack. Casual conversation drifted over the fields as the fight continued, as though the masters' battle was child's play to the pair.

"Hey, Hibachan."

"Yes?" The ancient warrior went in for the kill, only to meet empty air.

"What's Formula 928?"

The leader of the Nyuchiezu seemed to freeze in midair for a moment. Ranma seized the opportunity, grabbed Cologne by the arm, and sent her flying. The old woman got up and dusted herself off while Ranma removed her blindfold.

"Did you say... Formula 928?" A touch of nervous flutter entered Cologne's voice. Ranma nodded.

The venerable leader's shoulders seemed to droop for a moment. She turned to the setting sun, her eyes viewing another time and place.

"Ranma, I recommend you pour whatever you made in a safe place. The stuff's poison."

"Then why was it in there?"

Tears shimmered in the old woman's eyes. "I... I didn't want to kill my own sister. I had hoped... if I could modify the 110 to make it irreversible... she would leave, and not come back. I... I failed." Her eyes focused on her pupil. "Ranma, I pray you never know a situation like that." She sighed, and straightened up to her full height.

"Ranma... I understand you were invited to a wedding."

The warrior shrugged. "Yeah. One of Nabiki's adopted sisters is getting married - to Kuno, of all people. I'm turning it down, of course."

"Don't."

Ranma blinked in mild surprise. "Huh?"

"It is important that you go to the wedding, and that your friends accompany you. Your parents can take care of things here. You see, you might not get another chance for a long time."

Ranma put her hands to her hips. "What is it, Hibachan?"

The old voice wavered to the point of breaking. "Ranma... I'm dying."

"What?" Ranma whispered, almost in disbelief.

"Gotcha." The old woman touched her staff to Ranma's forehead, sending her flying. Ranma performed a neat flip, and landed on her feet.

"Why you... you..." Her voice trailed off as she noted Cologne's gaze. "You're not kidding, are you?"

She shook her head. "Come. It is time we headed home."

*****************************************************************************

Night had long since fallen over the village, and most of its residents were now lost in dreams. Silence reigned throughout most of the land, the only sounds to be heard the gentle rustling of animals. The lights of the little hamlet had all been snuffed out... save one, a beacon shining from Ucchan's Restaurant.

Ukyou wasn't sure whose idea it was, only that it seemed strangely appropriate. None of the women there could claim a normal 'girlhood', as two of them had lived as men and the third had been far too immersed in commerce to bother. Still, she couldn't debate its enjoyment - or its usefulness. Everyone had been so tense about the upcoming trip - especially Ranma, who had seemed almost untouchably distant of late. It was almost as if her old friend was hiding something.

Whoever came up with it, the slumber party was a great idea. Truth or dare, strip poker... she never realized what she had missed growing up. More importantly, the time allowed them to sit and talk, an all too rare occurrence nowadays. Between the three of them, their lives were so busy that sometimes even a pleasant "hello" was hard to come by. Such intimate conversation, away from the hustle of life, was something to cherish.

"Food's ready!"

She looked up at her onetime fiance. Ranma walked out from behind the grill bearing okonomiyaki and sake on a tray, the results of an earlier 'dare'. Ukyou couldn't help but smile; the waitress outfit was so fetching on her... The heir to the Nyuchiezu leadership set the food on the table and sat down carefully, her face red from embarrassment.

"Oh, don't worry, Ranma," Nabiki piped. "It's not like wearing a dress will stick you in the form."

Ukyou shook her head. Nabiki could be so tactless at times... She placed a reassuring hand on Ranma's shoulder before a retort could come.

"Nabiki, what's the schedule for the trip?" she asked, changing the subject.

The businesswoman shrugged. "The only thing you two have to do is go to the wedding and reception on Friday. Me, I'm going to be so busy that I'll have little time to enjoy myself." She groaned slightly. "I am not looking forward to this."

Ranma arched an eyebrow. "Natsume and Kurumi?" Nabiki nodded.

Ranma put a hand to her friend's shoulder, and looked her in the eye. "Nabiki... you've got to make up with them. They're family - whether you like it or not."

Nabiki shook her head sadly. "I know. I just wonder if they're willing to make up with me. I did say some rather harsh things earlier..."

"All you can do is try. You never know what'll happen unless you do." The heir brought the sake to her lips. "Personally, I can't wait to meet them."

Ukyou coughed, and took a sip of her sake. "Just to let you know, Ranma, my father's coming to visit."

Ranma began to choke on her sake. "Y-Your father?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. He's really interested in meeting you."

"I'll bet! Let's see... the last time he saw me, I was six years old, male, and riding atop his primary source of income." Ranma's gaze fixed on the okonomiyaki chef. "How much have you told him?"

"I told him everything that happened with Jusenkyo and with Herb. I kinda had to after he found out I was living in China." She cut a piece of slightly burned okonomiyaki, then winced as she put it in her mouth. "Oooh, that's bad."

"Sorry. I don't quite have your skill in that regard."

Ukyou took a long sip of her sake, both to dull the taste lingering in her mouth and to give her a good shot of courage. She then grabbed one of Ranma's hands and held it in a fierce grip.

"Ranma."

"Yes?" The warrior looked at her quizzically.

"What's wrong?"

Ranma put a piece of food in her mouth. "Who said anything's wrong?" she mumbled, wearing her best poker face.

A deadly look shot from the okonomiyaki chef. "Don't give me that. I know you too well. You've been so buried in your studies and training that you haven't even had time to stop in the restaurant. Now please, Ranchan... tell me what's wrong."

Ranma lowered her head, unable to meet those imploring eyes. "I can't tell you right now."

"Whaddaya mean you can't tell me?!?" Ukyou was livid. Ranma stood up, and placed a hard hand on her shoulder.

"There are things this village is not ready to know right now." She softened, and managed an apologetic smile. "If it makes you happy, I'll tell you on the plane. Okay?"

The chef relaxed from her meltdown. "Okay. You'd better - or that flight's going to have a lot more turbulence."

*****************************************************************************

"KIYAAH!!" *thud*

"KIYAAH!!" *thud*

The cries of martial arts practice echoed through Nerima as Kurumi Tendo went about her morning training. A cool fall wind blew through the courtyard as she punched the practice dummy, rustling her short, disheveled brown hair and cooling the heat of her exertions. The practice was a comforting and cathartic one, an island of stability in a rapidly-changing and turbulent world. Her sister's impending marriage brought with it preparations, arrangements, fittings - and the knowledge that the dojo was hers alone to run and take care of. It felt strange... frightening and exciting at the same time.

Then there was Nabiki, along with her friends. Kurumi's "other" sister had a bitter streak a mile long, and was not pleased to find these "interlopers" taking her place. She had hoped that she could make up with her prodigal sister; however, she feared that such a resolution was impossible. The others didn't help matters much; if the stories were to be believed (and, were it not for everyone's insistence, she wouldn't have), Ranma had been promised to Akane, back when 'she' was a 'he' and Akane had been alive. Ukyou, on the other hand, was a complete mystery, save that she and Akane both wanted Ranma and, as such, never got along.

"Gomen kudasai..."

Kurumi snapped to attention at the arrival cry. She got in one last punch for comfort, then went to greet her guests. Her father was already there, looking dignified with his graying hair and best kimono.

The first of the guests was the only one familiar to her, as they shared a name, if not blood. Nabiki stood in front of her father for a moment, a surprisingly neutral expression on her face. Her eyes still held a hint of the old frustrations, but seemed more nervous than angry now. She walked up to her father and, after a moment's hesitation, hugged him. "Hello... daddy." Soun, quite naturally, returned the embrace, happy to have his daughter back once more.

As father and daughter reunited, the other two visitors entered the house, and set down their bags. The first seemed a relatively normal woman, with long brown hair and soft, laughing eyes. A blue Chinese outfit covered the woman's trim frame, and she wore a bandolier with spatulas. Kurumi had only seen a couple of photos of Ukyou Kuonji, but the clues identified the cook instantly.

The other stood calm at the entrance, her eyes glazed over in a bit of memory. Her smooth, noble face was marred with a touch of sadness. She carried herself with a quiet, tragic dignity of one who has seen heaven and hell - and been cast out of both. Kurumi walked over to this redhead, and bowed.

"Hello. My name's Kurumi. Kurumi Tendo. Am I to assume that you're Ranma Saotome?"

The lady turned to Kurumi, and flashed a wry smile. "I see my reputation precedes me. This is Ukyou Kuonji," she said, gesturing to the chef next to her.

Ukyou bowed to the martial artist. "How do you do?"

Kurumi smiled. "We're fine. Natsume went out shopping with Kasumi, so they won't be back until around noon." She turned around and motioned for them to follow. "I'll show you to your room, and then we can talk."

*****************************************************************************

A few minutes later, the group sat around the table, each of them nursing a cup of hot tea. Silence hung ominously over the group, as the strains between Nerima's past and future made themselves evident. Ever the gracious host, Kurumi meekly spoke to break the silence.

"So... how was your trip?" The words shook with apprehension.

Nabiki shrugged. "It was fine. There weren't any problems at the airport, so..."

"That's nice."

Ranma felt the tension in the room, and knew the sisters needed to talk. "Excuse me, Kurumi, but I'm rather stiff from the flight, so I'll be in the dojo working out. Ukyou, Mr. Tendo? Care to join me?" The others agreed and left, leaving the two women alone.

"Kurumi?" Nabiki stared at her mug, unable to meet her sister's gaze.

"Yes?"

"I... I'm sorry."

Kurumi's eyes widened. Nabiki managed a weak smile, then continued.

"I'm sorry I didn't give you and Natsume a chance earlier. When I came back for Kasumi's wedding, to find... it... it was like Dad and Kasumi had brought you in to... to replace Akane and me. It made me so angry... and I took it out unfairly on you two." She raised her head, to face her. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to call you sister... but I was wondering if we could be friends."

A weight seemed to disappear from their shoulders at Nabiki's confession. Kurumi got up, and walked over to her sister. "I guess... that'll be okay. When we came here, everyone was so sad... we never stopped to think..." She bit her lip, and extended a hand. "Friends?"

Nabiki grabbed the hand, and nodded. "Friends." She pulled her 'friend' in, and gave her a fierce hug. After a moment, she released the embrace, and looked her sister in the eye. "Come on. The others are waiting."

The two sisters walked hand-in-hand out of the house and over to the dojo. Inside, Ukyou was sparring with Soun, and was surprisingly holding her own. Soun had a strength advantage over her, but Ukyou had better speed and endurance. The fight continued until Soun got a hit inside Ukyou's defences, knocking the wind out of the young cook.

Soun wiped the sweat from his brow. "Very good, Ukyou. I haven't had a fight like that in ages."

Ukyou bowed to the old master. "Thank you."

"Father, do you mind if I spar? I'd like to see how good these people are."

The three Nyuchiezu just looked at each other. "Okay, Kurumi... which one of us would you like to fight?" Nabiki asked.

"Ranma." Kurumi pointed to the redhead.

The warrior in question raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" Kurumi nodded.

"Okay..." Ranma moved out into the center of the dojo, and took a non-combative position opposite Kurumi. "Ready?"

The short brunette nodded. "Are you?"

"Always."

Throughout the years that Kurumi Tendo had called the dojo home, she had always heard the rumors of the changed warrior she faced. How he had been fated to turn into a female with cold water, and the later tragedy that took his manhood away for good, as well as one Kurumi would have called sister. How he faced down foe after foe, refusing to give up or give in until he was victorious. How he went toe-to-toe with Happousai with disturbing frequency, and managed to hold his own in the battles. In many ways, Ranma was the shadow that loomed over her, the ideal she felt obligated to live up to.

None of this, however, prepared her for battle with this urban legend of Nerima's streets. She charged in with a basic attack first, to test the woman's legendary speed. All she met was empty air.

"Care to try again?" came a soprano voice behind her.

"Grrr..." She tried a roundhouse kick, hoping it would catch her in mid-move. No luck.

No Ranma, either. She looked around, at the smirking audience, the decorations on the walls -

"You know, it might help if you thought in more than two dimensions."

She looked up. Ranma was perched there nonchalantly, as though it were perfectly normal for her to hang on the ceiling.

"Why you..." Kurumi crouched, then leapt up, to knock the warrior from her perch. Ranma leapt down and touched a point on Kurumi's back. The young lady felt a small bit of electricity in her legs, then stared in horror as they collapsed underneath her when she landed.

"Don't worry, it's only a Shiatsu point." Ranma poked another spot, and life flowed into her legs once again. "Give up?"

Kurumi slumped her shoulders. "Hai..." Ranma picked up the young woman and looked her in the eye.

"Not bad. I'd put your skill at slightly less than Nabiki's right now. It might be a good idea if you sparred with her next."

Kurumi took the hint, and readied herself for the next match.

***************************************************************************

An hour later, the group was back at the table, in much the same way they were before. This time, though, the conversation flowed freely, without the chains of grudges.

"Ranma, where did you learn speed like that? I mean... one second, you were in front of me, the next behind me, the next on the ceiling..."

The former heir to the Tendo Dojo sipped her tea, and looked at its current proprietor. "A number of places. Some of it Pop taught me when I was young, while Hiba- Cologne taught me the rest."

"I wish I could learn speed like that," Kurumi whispered.

The warrior's face darkened for a moment. "No, you don't. Trust me."

"Huh?"

Ukyou put a hand to her forehead. Ranma could be so exasperating sometimes... "What Ranma is saying is that he probably wouldn't have trained so hard if it weren't for what happened to him."

"Oh." Kurumi took in a long sip, then set her mug down.

"Ranma, what's your home like?"

"My home?" Ranma looked surprised by the question.

"China. From what I've heard, it seems so... different."

Ranma smiled gently. "It's definitely different - and beautiful. There's a life, an energy to the land, something missing from Tokyo. The air smells sweet and pure, without all the pollution from the city. And the scenery... the sunrise from the top of Mount Phoenix is just breathtaking, with the light dancing across the cliff faces... it's almost like watching the earth being reborn." She shook her head. "Still... it doesn't measure up to home in my eyes."

Kurumi blinked in surprise. "But I thought..."

"We're back!" A cry came from the front entrance. A moment later, Kasumi and Natsume walked in, carrying several bundles.

Natsume, the elder of the daughters trained by Happousai and adopted by Soun Tendo, was tall and well-formed, with a lithe body to rival any model's. Long brown tresses ran down to her waist, and were held in place by a ponytail. Her soft, mysterious brown eyes were inscrutable, hiding whatever secrets lay beneath, while the face that surrounded them was round and without blemish. She sat down her packages upon seeing the guests, and bowed in greeting.

To Ranma's eyes, Kasumi looked much improved since their parting five years previous. She had gained a bit of weight, the results of a recent pregnancy, but still looked as flattering as ever. The cheerfulness destroyed with the disintegration of her family was returned to her, as she now had a family of her own to take care of. She sat down most of her packages, and placed the most important one, a baby carrier, on the table, sparking the interest of all there.

"Is... is this little Akane?" Nabiki asked, with hesitation and joy.

"Uh-huh." The mother picked up her child, and held her close. "She'll be four months old tomorrow." She looked up at Ranma, sitting there with a strange, tense look on her face. "Ranma? Would you like to hold her?"

The young warrior looked nervous for a moment. "Er... no. I'm not that good with children."

"Nonsense! Nabiki's told me all about your healing work with Cologne." She looked back to the infant, and held her out carefully. "Here you go..."

Ranma accepted and held the child naturally, with a skill born of years of practice. The warrior held her close to her chest, and cradled her. Akane-chan, apparently hungry, grabbed at the blouse with her hands and mouth, seeking to feed on what's inside.

"Kasumi, I think it's time for her feeding," Ranma whispered, in awe at the life in her arms.

Kasumi looked at her child's actions, and laughed. "Oh, she's always hungry. I'll feed her in a little bit."

"Hungry all the time, huh? Just like..." Her words stopped as the flood of memory roared unbidden through her. As she stared at the wisps of black hair on the child's head, the wide-eyes innocence in the dark eyes... Ranma couldn't help but think of another Akane, whose name was given in memory to this child, the next generation and hope for the family...

Tears fell from the Amazon's eyes, though even she could not tell if they were from joy or sorrow.

****************************************************************************

Ukyou Kuonji fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair as she looked at her watch for the sixth time in as many minutes. She had been rather apprehensive about the visit, but knew the reunion could not be avoided. The last time she had seen her father, she had been a youngster of sixteen, a girl living behind a boy's mask. That had been six years ago.

Now... the woman looked down at herself, and blinked once at the changes wrought by the years. An undeniably feminine body was hers to show, its curved elegance flattered by the sky-blue evening dress that covered it. So different...

Her thoughts quite naturally drifted over to her friend and comrade-in-arms. Ranma was so changed from the six-year-old boy she had played with and the sixteen-year-old youth she had fallen in love with. The man was gone physically, trapped somewhere inside the (equally beautiful) woman next to her, yet she could still see _him_ reaching for her, yearning for release from behind those eyes of deep blue. Still, there were parts of him that were gone forever, vanished in a flower of fire. She only hoped there was enough of him left when the time of release came.

She looked up at the entrance... and gasped. Her hand reached unconsciously for Ranma's, seeking an anchor to hold on to. A burly man entered the establishment slowly, carefully. His powerful frame was cloaked beneath a conservative business suit, a pleasant change from the okonomiyaki garb he usually wore. Upon seeing his daughter, Hikaru Kuonji walked swiftly to her table. She stood up and embraced her father.

"Ukyou! How are you?" He stared at his child, astounded at the beauty before him. "You... you look beautiful, daughter."

"Thanks, Dad." She gestured over to her eating companion. "Dad...this is Ranma Saotome."

The martial artist stood up, and bowed deeply. "Greetings, Mr. Kuonji."

Mr. Kuonji blinked for a moment, his mind trying to reconcile the boy he knew with the woman before him. "Hello," he said, bowing hastily. The group then sat down, ordered their meals, and began to talk.

"So... Ranma. What are your responsibilities in this... Joketsuzoku village?"

The warrior shrugged. "I am the heir to the tribe's leadership. This involves acting as the local herbalist and 'doctor', serving as part of the law enforcement, acting as liaison to the government authorities, and helping to direct tribal meetings."

"I see..." the old man purred. "And my Ukyou? Your plans for her?"

"Father!"

"It's okay, Ucchan." Ranma put a hand to her friend's shoulder. "Sir, right now, any ideas of relationships are on hold until either I am able to return to my original form... or until such a return is impossible."

"And if it is found to be impossible... what then?"

"Father, that's enough!" Ukyou's face was turning purple with rage.

"I'm just trying to see whether she'll stay by you... or if she'll leave you, like her father."

This last comment, said with such venom, sent Ranma's hair bristling. "No offense, sir, but I am most definitely not my father's son."

"Really? I never would have-"

"FATHER!!" Ukyou was shaking, desperate to hold onto what little temper she had left. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then locked eyes with Ranma. "Ranma, could you please leave us for a moment? My father and I have certain things to discuss."

The warrior nodded silently, then left for the ladies' room while father and daughter glared daggers at each other. Ukyou took in another deep breath, and spoke softly.

"Father, I want you to listen to me for a minute or two. I don't want you to say anything until I'm done, because I'm about ready to explode, and I might not get another chance."

"Dad, do you remember the day when Mr. Saotome left me behind? I remember... I remember putting on that boy's suit. It was ugly and ill-fitting, but you said I had to wear it, that I was no longer a girl 'cause Ranma left. I cried myself to sleep that night, not because I had been left behind, but because... I had lost everything I was and everything I had. I... I was no longer me."

"About five years ago, this psychopath tore through Nerima. He stuck Ranma in his girl body, and killed his... killed his fiancee and friends."

"'His'? Have you taken a good look at 'him' lately?"

The look Ukyou flashed at her father could have melted steel, and the whisper from her lips was louder than any shout. "He's more man than you'll ever be, father. At least he plans on solving his problems, rather than hiding them behind a suit. It won't be until he's leading the Nyuchiezu, but it will be soon."

"Anyway, when that happened... Ranma went through the same thing I had. He had lost everything he had, everything he was... except me."

"Father, he won't leave me again. He spoke the truth before: he is not his father's son, and refuses to make the same mistakes Genma made. Also, I will never leave him. I've stared death in the face to be with him, as he has done for me. The... bond between us is too strong to break, a friendship beyond words or bodies. Don't _ever_ try to come between us again. Got that?"

The old cook met Ukyou's hard gaze. "My question still hasn't been answered, daughter."

A wry smile formed on her painted lips. "Dad? Where I come from, a sex change is a cool swim away." Her eyebrow arched slightly. "Besides, you always wanted a son..."

***************************************************************************

Nabiki Tendo stood stoically in the graveyard, her dark eyes sad, but lacking in tears. A gentle wind tugged at her long hair, whipping the strands into her face, while a smart black dress flowed loosely around her. In one hand was a simple bucket, and a single rose was in the other. With a swift motion, she grabbed the ladle, dipped it in, and poured the water over the cool granite. The gentle washing done, she sat her bucket down and carefully knelt before the stone. She placed the scarlet beauty at its base.

"Hey, sis. Long time no see."

She turned for a moment to look at the sky above her. A cloudy afternoon overall, with hints of sunlight peeking from behind the clouds, brilliant fire tempered by the cool sky. The wind blew in gusts around her, stirring the drying leaves around her. Still, through it all, the place held a stillness, a rock-hard illusion of peace from the outside world.

"I... I'm sorry I haven't been back as often to visit. You are my sister, after all... I've been keeping busy in the village. In between training and running my store, I have so little time to just... get away."

"Kurumi and I have made up - at least for now. When we first met, they made me so angry... It was like Dad and Kasumi had gone out and adopted them to replace... to replace us. I... they make Daddy happy, though, so... I decided to make up. They are family, after all..."

"Akane, I miss you so much. I... do you remember the talks we had when we were kids? Before Kuno and his stupid promises, before Ranma and his curse and fiancees, before Herb..."

"I'm so lonely there. Ranma and Ukyou have their own lives there, so I don't get to talk to them often. The Saotomes help a lot... but they can't understand some things. The villagers are alright, I guess... but they're so strange sometimes. There's nobody with whom I can just... talk."

"Sometimes, when I look up at the stars... I think about what... what might have been. I could have gone off to college, you could be running the dojo with Ranma... then reality hits. I see your... your body, after... I see Ranma, living day-to-day in a body that isn't his... I..."

Angry tears began to flow from the young woman's eyes. "Akane, by all I hold holy... I will see this through... for all of us."

***************************************************************************

The first rays of dawn spread out over the horizon, announcing to all the coming of day. The light entered the room through the window, illuminating its inside wall and stirring one of its temporary residents out of her torpor. The young redhead stared at the half-shadowed ceiling, and smiled.

For a moment, Ranma could almost imagine the past few years a dream, a fantasy born out of her darkest nightmares. Familiar walls, familiar ceiling... she rolled onto her side, half-expecting to see a panda snoozing there. A mild disappointment crept in as she noticed only Nabiki, snoring away the morning. Ukyou slept away on her other side, murmuring softly in her dreams.

Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Ranma quietly got up, stepped over Ukyou, and dressed in blue. She walked down the stairs, out of the house, and toward the dojo to find...

Natsume and Kurumi were engaged in a morning practice, sweat already glistening off of their bodies from the workout. While not in the class of the best Nyuchiezu, they were quite skilled, and would have held their own in old Nerima, before Herb's coming. The familiarity between the two fighters was clearly evident, as the punches and kicks were so fluidly blocked as to be choreographed. The two girls noticed the newcomer, and stopped their battles.

"Good morning, Ranma," Kurumi said cheerfully. Natsume, the more reserved of the two, simply bowed.

Ranma walked into the all-too-familiar dojo with a smile, and bowed. "Good morning. It's nice to know the old place is in such diligent hands."

The sisters blushed at the compliment, then acknowledged their thanks. Ranma looked around at the walls, lost in memory.

"This place always was a favorite of mine. Akane and I would often spar in here to keep in training, as well as work out our frustrations."

Kurumi smiled. "Funny... I heard that Akane didn't care where she was when she worked out her frustrations - only that you be on the receiving end."

Ranma chuckled softly. "Yeah... as Kasumi once told me, 'She's really a very sweet girl. She's just hopelessly violent.' Still, when she let her guard down..."

The elder of the sisters nodded. "Tachi's the same way. When we first met, he was spouting so much poetry I thought he wrote the stuff for a living. Finally, I got so tired of it that I told him to shut up. Amazingly, he did. We got to talking... and by the time it was over, both of us were crying. Things just went from there."

She turned to face the morning sky. "He's anxious about meeting you, by the way. He apparently has a few things he wants to say to you before tonight. Before you ask, yes, he knows about your curse."

"That doesn't help matters much. The last time I saw him, his supposedly 'crazy' sister was forcibly carrying him away."

"You can't avoid him forever. You are going to the wedding, after all."

"I know..." Dark thoughts raced through the warrior's mind, then calmed. She then looked at the Tendos critically.

"Kurumi... I noticed in our little bout that you have some pretty decent speed on you. Do you mind if I show the two of you a technique of mine?" The two girls, eager to learn, nodded vigorously. She took them out of the dojo and over to the carp pond.

"The technique I am about to show you is called 'Kashuu Tenshin Amaguriken'." The warrior and (now) teacher looked down at the fish, drew in a deep breath... and smiled.

****************************************************************************

An hour, two campfires, and five dead carp later, the three women went to the bath to freshen up. Ranma paid it little mind, as she had seen enough of the feminine body to not mind it, but was inwardly grateful that the others also didn't mind. The ladies nonchalantly undressed, scrubbed, and headed into the tub.

"What was Tachi like when you knew him?"

Ranma looked up at the ceiling and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Kuno was... learning honor back then."

"Learning honor?" This was not quite the response the sisters had expected from their guest. Ranma glanced at the two, then returned to her memories.

"Honor doesn't just come to a person. It is built up over time and experience... and loss. In the early stages, a person will usually act somewhat haughty and aloof as they try to 'act' honorable, then will calm down as they develop the things that support honor: love for self, family, and friends, and the courage to defend that love to the death, if need be. To give you an idea, 'Tachi' had proclaimed his love for both Akane and the mysterious 'pigtailed girl', and considered it honorable to try to wrest both of them from the clutches of the 'vile sorcerer' Saotome."

She looked over to Natsume. "From what I've heard from everyone, Tatewaki Kuno has changed a lot since those days, probably due to your influence. He's always had the courage within him. It took love - your love - to show him what true honor is."

"It's strange to hear you say that," Natsume whispered. "When Tachi learned the truth about you, he... well, I think I'd better let him explain, at breakfast."

The bath water rippled as Ranma sat up, startled. "Breakfast?"

Kurumi smiled mischievously. "Oh, didn't we tell you? Tachi and Kodachi are coming over. In fact, they should be here any minute now. Come on, Natsume, your beloved awaits." They rose from the bath, and started to dry themselves off. "Are you coming, Ranma?"

"Hai..." The changed woman rose from the water, and joined the others in preparing for the confrontation.

The two representatives of clan Kuno were waiting at the table when the girls entered, as were the other family members and guests. Upon seeing them, the two stood up, erect and proud.

Kodachi Kuno's appearance had changed little since the carefree days of her youth. The former gymnast still wore her hair in a long ponytail, and still wore her preferred color of black, as demonstrated by the sable dress she wore. The madness in her eyes was gone, though, presumably disappeared the day she learned of her beloved's 'departure'.

Tatewaki looked as severe in adulthood as he had in high school. A smart business suit fit snugly over his muscular frame, and his face was the intense, stoic mask it had been, if a bit more angular. His eyes danced, though, as he beheld his love Natsume. The two stood up, and bowed deeply to the warrior.

"Hello, Ranma-sa... er, Ranma." Kodachi seemed unusually reserved for the occasion.

"Hello," Ranma said carefully. Tatewaki bowed again to the young lady, then knelt before her.

"Saotome Ranma, my sister and I would like to apologize for our dishonorable actions. What we did in our ignorance was inexcusable, and beneath the actions of an honorable warrior. We ask for your pardon, and put ourselves at your command to atone for our sin."

Ranma blinked. An apology was not entirely unexpected, but the full, formal apology was something she wasn't prepared for. Unsure of what else to do, the young woman gave them a full forty-five degree bow, then smiled.

"Kuno Tatewaki, your clan honors me with your apology. I do accept it, on one condition."

All eyes turned to Ranma in surprise. Her smile broadened, and almost glowed with happiness.

"You shall love Natsume as she loves you, and you must never be afraid to show her that love."

Tatewaki stood up, brought his love close to him, and held her to his chest. "I will, Ranma." He let go, brought her chin up gently, and kissed her with the gentleness and sensitivity of one who knew of the fragility of life all too well. After what seemed an eternity, the couple broke off their kiss, and noticed the wide-eyed looks from the others. Natsume coughed, then managed a wan smile.

"So...what's for breakfast?"

****************************************************************************

Ukyou knelt by the cold gray stone and placed a red rose at its base, to join the one Nabiki left earlier. She clapped her hands together and muttered a small prayer, then opened her eyes.

"Hello, Akane. I... hope you don't mind me visiting."

"I came by to say... I'm sorry. I know I wasn't very kind to you back in the old days, but... I thought we could have been friends if it weren't for our rivalry."

"Akane... do you ever think about those days? Things seemed so innocent then. All of our fights, our loves, our petty rivalries... it all seems so silly now, but back then... that was our life."

She bit her lip for a moment, nervous about the coming words. "Before we left, Cologne had a long talk with Ranchan about... certain things. Apparently she's dying, and she wants him to be ready for the job... and the cure."

"Akane, I know this sounds strange, but... I was wondering if I could have your blessing to start a relationship with Ranchan, once he's back. To be honest, he still loves you, and mourns your death everyday, just as I mourn his... curse everyday. If you're listening, I know I can't replace you... only be there for him."

The young chef stood up from her position. "Akane, I gotta go. Kasumi wants me to look after A- after her daughter, and I need to take Ranchan a few places before the wedding."

****************************************************************************

"I can't believe this..."

"Take it easy, Ranchan, you look fine. Besides, you need to look good for the wedding."

"I guess..."

Ranma looked at her face in the restaurant window, and scowled at the hairstyle and makeup put on in the name of beauty. Her pigtail was undone, and flowers were intertwined into her now-styled scarlet locks. The lipstick and liner accentuated the scowl of her face quite nicely, and the mascara and eyeshadow enhanced the darkness of her stare. She looked back at her eating companion, and smiled grimly.

The okonomiyaki cook, her friend and confidante, normally looked femininely beautiful; her own session at the beauty parlor left her drop-dead gorgeous. Her hair had been trimmed and styled in a way similar to Ranma's, and the makeup served to show off the beautiful face beneath. She held Akane Ono, Kasumi's child, in her arms, and a cheesecloth was draped over her shoulder to protect her from any milky residue. The chef picked up Ranma's chin with her free hand, and moved her head from side to side.

"Gotta admit, Ranchan, you do look good. I'm jealous."

The former man was clearly unamused by the comment. "Please, Ucchan. I'm not in the mood to hear it."

"Okay, okay..." Ukyou raised her hand in mock surrender.

Ranma lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, Ucchan. It's just...this visit has opened up a few old wounds, and I'm not exactly prepared to deal with them right now."

Ukyou nodded. "I understand perfectly. Have you noticed where we're eating?"

Ranma looked around. The entrance had changed, as had the counter and chairs, but the stucco walls still held a few dents and cracks here and there, a legacy from its days as...

"Ucchan's. I don't believe how this place has changed."

"Tell me about it." The proprietor frowned. "I spent so much time here... and now it's as though I never was."

"Nothing is forgotten," Ranma murmured.

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry. Something Hibachan taught me." The heir to the Nyuchiezu leadership gave a wry smile to her friend.

"For whatever time we are on this earth, we make echoes of where we've been and what we've done, which last long after we're gone. Akane has been dead for five years now, but her echoes are still felt, in the name the child bears, in the patched up holes in the Tendo home and dojo, and in the actions we take, either consciously or unconsciously, in her memory."

"Nyuchiezu wisdom?" Ukyou arched an eyebrow.

Ranma shook her head. "I don't think so. To be honest, I'm not sure where she got it."

A squeal from the child brought the philosophy to a halt, soon followed by an all-too-familiar odor. Ukyou smiled, and handed the child to her. "Your turn..."

Ranma groaned, took the child and baby bag, and headed back to the restroom.

****************************************************************************

Private demons are strange, shadowy creatures in the recesses of a human soul. For years they skulk in the darkness, far from the mental traffic flying through. Once called by some small event, though, they tear through the mind, shattering the walls of comfort without regard to time, place, or circumstance.

It is perhaps no small degree of irony that one of Ranma's demons came to visit on this night, the night of the wedding... in the form of a small piece of cream-colored silk.

The once-male warrior had not had an easy day. Beauty parlors and shopping trips were not things a person of her nature cared for very much. This, though... this was a bit more personal.

The clothes before her were, ironically enough, equivalent and opposite to her own self. The outer clothing was primarily masculine in style, even with a feminine cut: white dress shirt, gray western-style slacks, and sport coat. A maroon ribbon took the place of a tie, though, and black flats sat waiting instead of dress shoes. The undergarments, on the other hand, were most definitely meant for a woman: brassiere, hose... and silk panties, currently held in an angry grip.

When Cologne had offered her the Nyuchiezu leadership, she knew full well that it would be a long time before the chance to strike would come and, as such, made appropriate adjustments. In order to make it through, she had to try to become the 'man among men' her parents always wanted her to be, even if only in spirit. She vowed that day never to let that man inside of her disappear, no matter what, knowing that each coming day of her life would chip away at that. If she ever let go, if she ever let herself become a woman in spirit... then Herb would truly have won.

Fortunately, such matters proved a bit easier than she had thought. The women of the Nyuchiezu were largely androgynous by Japanese standards, and did not consider her behavior unusual; moreover, they knew of her past, and understood her reluctance in romantic matters. The decision to wear a bra had been a necessary, but agonizing one: Her chest had blossomed out to the point that such restraints were necessary, but she feared that she was giving up a part of 'himself' in doing so. Besides that, though, she almost never wore what could be considered 'feminine' clothing, except when required to by honor or circumstance.

The woman let out a small sigh. There was no getting around it; boxers would show from behind the slacks, and the ankles and feet would look strange without the hose. She sat down and began to dress, her teeth clenched as she donned the more offensive articles.

A few minutes later, the young woman looked in the mirror at herself... and shuddered. The beautiful creature staring back at her was a far cry from what she wanted to be... and, yet, the mirror wasn't lying. The curves of her form were most definitely a woman's, even if the jacket subdued the more obvious parts. The face still held the firm, resolute look of a man, but that seemed overshadowed as the makeup and hair brought out her sensuous features. Truly a beauty... a beauty the object of any man's desire.

The warrior stood up straight, picked up her shoes, and headed down to the living area, her face a deceptive mask of calm. After all, it wouldn't do to appear troubled, especially now. Her resolve was rewarded by the sight that greeted her.

Ukyou paced slowly in the main room, looking exquisite in a red evening dress. Baby Akane was in her arms, cooing softly as the young woman gently rocked her. Ranma looked at the two together, and smiled. The picture seemed so natural; if she ever returned to normal... The chef glanced over to her, and smiled.

"Ranchan, you look... nice," Ukyou said diplomatically. She gestured over to the exit with her hand. "We'd better go. We're late as it is."

The two women left the now-empty house, locked the door behind them, and walked out into the cool air of early evening. Ukyou held the baby close to her, and whispered a small lullaby to the child to keep her at peace. The warrior was glad for the song; it provided a calming comfort to the scene, a comfort necessary in her old haunting grounds.

The long walk to the Kuno manor held many ghosts, shades of the life Ranma once possessed. The fences upon which the youth ran from place to place seemed empty as the adult viewed them from the safety of concrete. They passed Furinkan High School, sight of so many battles... of which she and her companion were among the few survivors. A short distance away revealed the former Nekohanten, where she had spent many an evening in relatively pleasant company - and where she had changed for the last time, as a powerful blast from a mysterious stranger sent him tumbling into a water bucket.

The manor itself seemed unusually subdued for the occasion, as though the voice of the clan had quieted. The white ribbons and chrysanthemums lining the palace were the only major decorations in the courtyard, save the platform prepared for the new couple. Family and friends of the young couple all stood a respectful distance from the platform, electricity seeming to generate from the crowd as they awaited the words of love.

Natsume Tendo, honored child of her clan, knelt on the platform, her head bowed, traditional tsunokashi draped over her head, her body in the traditional kneeling position of a Japanese bride. A fine, ornately detailed white kimono was wrapped around her, and rippled as the soft wind blew over it. Though she firmly maintained the position of a humble bride, her hands quivered slightly, and her lips formed an almost imperceptible smile.

To her right was her husband-to-be, the former Blue Thunder, Tatewaki Kuno. A black silk wedding outfit fit over his strong form, and suited the kendoist well. He knelt there, strong, proud, but with far less of the arrogance of his youth. The man had grown beyond the petty squabbling of children, and now lived the life of honor he was destined to.

The ceremony itself was a beautiful sight. Kuno had always had a gift for poetry; it took the painful lessons of life to give the words focus, and the fire of true love to give them inspiration.

"I declare, to those friends and loved ones present before us, that I do love Natsume Tendo, and dedicate my life to her. While there is life in this weak form, I will live by her side, to comfort her and provide for her as best as this simple man is able." He turned to his love, his dark eyes softening at her presence. "I... know I may not be the most worthy of men, but I will love you... if you will have me."

The young woman turned to him, every passionate emotion blooming in her eyes. "And I declare my love for Tatewaki, lion of my heart. I promise to be the best wife I can be, to provide a peaceful home for him, to comfort him when the cold night presses down on him, and to raise our children to be fine, upstanding, and an honor to the Kuno clan. I may not be the most capable of women, but I will do my best... and I do love you, Tachi, with every fiber of my being and every ounce of my soul."

Kasumi approached the couple, bearing three bowls of sake on a tray to seal the covenant. The young couple sipped from each bowl, passionate oaths flowing from them with each sip. Ranma stared wide-eyed at the couple, softly biting her lip to keep from screaming. These two had found each other in the bitter cold of the world, and discovered a warmth of love... a warmth once offered her, foolishly denied, and now gone for all time.

An incoherent, high-pitched squeal shook the warrior from her darkness, and she involuntarily turned to its source. Ukyou stood next to her, small, desperate whisperings coming forth to quiet the child. Ranma took the baby bag from the ground, and slung it over her shoulder.

"Ucchan, she's just alarmed by the crowd." She looked to the exit. "Let me have her. I'll take her for a little walk." She delicately accepted the baby from Ukyou's grasp and, after making sure there wasn't any other problem concerning the child, walked out of the manor and into the night. Little Akane, away from the confusing, strange crowd, began to calm as Ranma's slow, deliberate steps reassured her.

Ranma froze in reverence and awe as they reached their destination - the graveyard. Memories flooded through her mind of a cold winter morning so long ago, memories so vivid she could almost taste again the ice in the air. Almost mechanically, the woman walked over to the a certain grave, and carefully knelt down. Her eyes misted over, tears threatening, as she read the name on the stone.

Tendo Akane.

The memories came fast and furious now, episodes of her past life, from the first moment she had set foot in the dojo to the horrible instant Herb wiped it all away. The tears flowed freely now, unrestricted by any social or personal restraints. Here, in this place alone in the world, she could cry, or scream, or just sit and talk, as this place would always accept her for who she was - no matter what.

Here she was home.

The baby in her arms, the namesake of her love and loss, cooed softly, and grabbed at Ranma's jacket. The woman looked down at the bright child, so worthy of her name, and tried to wipe away tears.

"Hey, little one. Would you like to hear a story?"

The baby attempted a smile. Ranma looked out into the ghosts of the night, and began her tale.

"Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom, there lived... a powerful magician, skilled in the mysterious arts of his trade... a warrior maid, beautiful of face, gifted with the strength of twenty... a wild man, cloaked in honor, doomed to forever wander the earth... a scarlet princess, regal in appearance, born with a heart of fire... and her betrothed, a handsome prince, transformed by dark sorcery into a young girl..."

****************************************************************************

Ukyou stood at the cemetery's gate, keeping vigil over her once and (hopefully) future love. Her heart wrenched at the pain that stormed in Ranma's eyes as the woman approached the grave, then soared with hope as she told her tale to the next generation.

She bit her lip, lost in admiration. The warrior at the grave combined the best of both worlds... those same hands capable of starting hurricanes and shattering steel had the gentleness and honor to care for the most fragile and helpless of beings with little effort. The chef put her hands to her lips and blew a kiss into the wind - the only one she could give until the time of judgement.

****************************************************************************

Two days later, Ranma, Ukyou, and Nabiki stood proud at Akane's grave, soldiers honoring one of their own. All three women laid a flower at the site, then knelt down. Ranma was the first to speak.

"Akane, I thought telling you 'I love you' was the hardest thing I could ever do. I... I was wrong. Akane... things are heating up in China, and I don't know when I'll be back. I... I wish I didn't have to go, but everything I've done is about to come to a head. Hibachan... Cologne's dying, and the village is going to need me for my expertise. I guess what I'm trying to say is... goodbye. I will always hold you in my heart." She wiped an errant tear away, and drew in a ragged breath.

Ukyou was next to speak, her soothing alto quietly drifting through the air. "Akane, if... if you're watching over us, please... see us home. Ranma's been like this too long." The warrior in question raised an eyebrow. "Please... if you can help us... please do so." She muttered something about not being good with this sort of thing, then turned to Nabiki.

The businesswoman looked to the sky, then her surroundings, as though she could see the spirits around her. "Sis, I... I'll be back every so often, to see how things are. The village keeps me busy, but I can afford to leave on occasion." She placed a hand to her lips, and pressed the kiss left there into the cold stone. "I miss you, sis." She got to her feet, quickly followed by the others.

Ranma looked to her friends, a serious expression on her face. "You two go on ahead. I need to spend a moment alone with Ryouga."

Murmurs of past times filled Ukyou's head as she walked back to the taxi. She watched as Ranma paid her respects, then walked out to join them.

"Ranchan... are we ever going to be able to come back?" she asked, in hushed tones.

The warrior nodded. "One day... when fate has been kind to us." She turned Ukyou around by the shoulders, gave her a friendly hug, and turned away... to tomorrow.

*****************************************************************************

Epilogue

Mouthwash hated mysteries. As such, she vowed to solve any she came across.

The summons itself was a strange one, a weird anonymous letter of challenge. She shrugged it off at first; what fool would dare challenge her, this year's tournament champion? Still, her curiosity was piqued, and it was a challenge, after all... so she came here, to meet it head-on. At the very least, it could give her some practice.

The campsite itself only provided more questions for her to solve. The tent set up contained only a bedroll for sleeping, nothing more. The campfire smouldered, indicating that the traveler had left only recently. The few other pieces of equipment were of local manufacture, suggesting that the person was from the area - most likely her own village.

"Hello, Mouthwash."

The lady in question jumped, taken by surprise by the deep, sonorous voice, while the owner stepped out of the bushes. The man was huge, towering to a height of nearly seven feet, with long black hair flowing to his waist and an angular, chiseled face the desire of any woman, and envy of any man. Despite his height, the warrior moved with a catlike grace, each step demonstrating to her the lean, compact musculature within. The man stared at her through slitted eyes, and his face was a mask of darkness.

The hairs on Mouthwash's neck stood on end as she felt the warrior's hostility. "Who are you? Why have you called me here?"

"Perhaps I desire a little woman to serve my every need..." the man hissed, without smiling. "As it happens, I have come to challenge you, for your honor as a warrior."

"My WHAT?!? How dare you speak to me of honor! You send me secret messages, skulk in the dark like some base Ninja... You haven't even told me your name! A true warrior does not hide his intentions."

A smile cracked on the mystery man's face. "I have made my intentions plain, and will forever do so. That hypocrite Cologne taught me that lesson well enough. As for my name, it is already known to you." He readied himself into a fighting stance. "Now, little one, it is time to see if you are truly capable of calling yourself a Nyuchiezu."

By this time, the teenager was seeing red. "As you wish," she spat out, and readied herself for the fight.

The battle, regrettably, was not going her way. Each punch and kick seemed to be countered with ease, and the few specialty moves she had learned were proving ineffective. Meanwhile this... man... was simply waiting, not using any attacks worthy of the classification, only feints and soft punches. Until...

"Hiryuu Shouten Ha!!"

The warrior maid's eyes widened, shocked beyond belief, as the man launched one of the highly-restricted moves of the Nyuchiezu. Horror crept in as the hurricane-force winds picked her up, then tossed her around like a rag doll. Questions raced in the precious seconds between takeoff and landing, as she searched for some understanding.

Who is this man? He knows the dragon punch... could he be Musk? No, he knows the village too well. He doesn't look like anyone I know, though, except he does kinda look like... look like... ohno...

The girl landed with a dull thud, silencing her thoughts under the inky blackness. The man put her body into a more relaxing position, produced a note from his shirt, and planted it on the sleeping warrior.

"Don't worry, little one. You'll understand it all in time. Others will be here in a little while, though they might not be happy to see you." The dark one tightened a strap on his pack. "Enjoy your exile..."

****************************************************************************

2009 notes:

This one was always my favorite of the Sunrise stories, simply because it showed what was the most important part of the story: the characters. Burned and Broken set the table fairly well, Happi-ness was the closest thing to a throwaway piece, and Succession brought Ranma-as-Nyuchiezu to a climax, but Home was more about these characters - what they believe, how they act, who they are - than any of the other Sunrise stories.

The original thanks, from 1996:

To Rumiko Takahashi (We're not worthy, we're not worthy...)

To all those who have sent in their comments about this series, including Chris Willmore, Stormwalker, Mike Loader, David Bateson, and so many others that I am not capable of remembering then all. Also thanks to Caroline Seawright, whose "Passion Spice" helped with a few terms during the wedding.

To all those who read, write, and dare to dream.

Original version released December 17, 1996

Sent to fanfiction dot net February 24, 2009


	4. Ch 4: Succession

_It is with great sorrow that I report the passing of Cologne, for so long the leader of our people, after a lengthy illness. Her wisdom and guidance will be sorely missed. I only pray I may live up to her example._

_My name is Ranma Saotome, and I have been chosen to succeed her as chieftain of the Nyuchiezu. I was not born into the tribe (indeed, I was not born a great many things), but was selected to the position six years ago, after Cologne's great-granddaughter and sole heir, Shampoo, perished in battle. I had fought alongside Shampoo in several battles, and distinguished myself in the elder's eyes enough to warrant her controversial decision._

_Before I go any further, I feel it necessary to bring to light several details of my varied past. I was born in the Nerima ward of Tokyo, Japan, the only son of Nodoka and Genma Saotome, and was originally expected to carry on my family's school of martial arts, the Musebetsu Kaketou Ryuu (an honor I hold jointly with my Nyuchiezu responsibilities). For the first fifteen years of my life I lived as a man, and traveled around Japan to seek perfection in the art._

_In my sixteenth year of life, the first seeds of change were planted, as my father and I journeyed to China to train. We happened upon an old training ground known as 'Jusenkyo', but knew nothing of the magic the place held. We both soon discovered it, though, as the strange water there weaved its spells around us. The pools transformed my father into a giant panda, and changed me into the form I now wear - that of a female._

-- Beginning of Journals of Ranma Saotome, 108th Chieftain of the Nyuchiezu.

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Succession

The fourth and final part of the Sunrise Chronicles

All relevant characters property of Rumiko Takahashi. All other characters property of me. All rights reserved. I must ask that you not do anything with any part of this work without the author's permission.

Note: this story takes place six years after the events portrayed in "Sunrise Chronicles pt. 1" and two years before the events in "Sunrise".

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"What a night..."

Ranma Saotome hurriedly opened the door to the chieftain's house, then closed it just as quickly to shut out the elements. The young healer reached a tired hand up to unclasp her cloak, allowing the dark garment to fall to the floor. She leaned against the door for a moment, giving her tired bones the slightest bit of respite before moving on.

The job of village healer (and that of chieftain, though she had yet to hold that title) was not an easy one, as it dealt intimately with two primal, opposite concerns of human existence: life and death. Earlier tonight, she had relished in the work of the former, as she gave assistance to a young Amazon giving birth. Trying work, but the rewards - the hearty cry of the infant, the glow of joy in the mother's eyes - these far outweighed the toil involved.

Unfortunately, with life must come its ending, and it was now time for her to deal with this other aspect. She climbed the stairs slowly, a creak echoing through the house with each step. Her feet shuffled down the hallway to the furthest door, which she opened.

"So..._*hack*_...my ungrateful pupil decided to come and visit me after all."

Ranma involuntarily stiffened, disheartened at the sight of the once-proud warrior. Cologne shivered under the many blankets, her small body experiencing the early stages of final breakdown. Great pain showed in her old eyes, but they shone with happiness in Ranma's presence. The heir looked at the subtle clues - the ragged breath, the shaking in her gnarled hands, the irregular throbbing of her temple - and knew Cologne would probably not see the dawn. Ranma sat down next to the bed, and brushed a few locks of hair from the old woman's face. Cologne looked at her successor, then glanced around to the others in the room.

"Leave us. I must speak with... _*cough*_... with Ranma alone." The few there filed out of the room, leaving the wisdom of the village alone.

"So. How did it go?"

Ranma shrugged, in a vain attempt to appear calm. "It went well. Lin had a beautiful baby girl, with her mother's eyes." She bit her thumbnail for a moment. "They... they named her after you, you know."

Cologne nodded, and smiled weakly. "Good. It's nice to _*hack,cough*_...know that life goes on. Ranma... _*cough*_... will you spend one last night with an old woman?"

"L-Last night? Come on, Hibachan, you're not going to die," Ranma lied.

The smile widened. "Your own answer tells... _*cough*_... tells me otherwise. Don't worry, Ranma. I've... _*hack*_... seen the signs just as you have. My time has come, and I'm... _*cough*_... I'm ready."

The old woman looked downward, at her decaying self. "Ranma... I want no secrets, no bitterness between us. Not now. When... _*hack*_... my mother died, I was so... _*cough*_... so angry... I want none of that. You already have enough anger."

Sadness glittered in the elder's eyes. "Ranma... about you and Shampoo... _*hack,cough*_... I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." Ranma grasped one of her hands, and gave a reassuring squeeze. "You did what you thought was best, for both the village and your great-granddaughter. When the time comes, I may be called to do the same."

Cologne grinned, grateful for her pupil's understanding. "That... that you may. Try not to... _*cough*_... make the same mistakes I made, okay?"

"Okay." Ranma tried to will her tears back, without much success.

"Hibachan... I have a confession."

"Oh?" An eyebrow arched on the elder's forehead.

Slender hands trembled as the memories of that night returned to her. "That day... when you came back for my answer... I was going to decline, until..."

"Until Ukyou and... _*hack*_... Nabiki showed up?" The dying woman looked positively amused.

"Yeah..."

"I know. Nabiki... she overheard... and I knew she'd... _*cough*_... tell Ukyou. I also knew... you'd decline without someone else coming."

"How did you know?"

The old warrior's smile beamed through the pain. "My child... my friend. You have... _*cough*_... always placed your friends... above yourself. It's called love, Ranma." She tried to reach her other hand over to Ranma's, without success. "Thank you for... _*cough*_... your love."

Ranma was left at a loss for words. "I... Hibachan..."

"Do you... _*cough*_... regret your decision?"

"No," the warrior answered, without hesitation. "I don't regret it for an instant. When you made the offer, I was a wreck." The tears started to flow freely. "You... you showed me what it was like to live again. You took a broken man, and... and made an Amazon out of her."

"I'm glad." Cologne winced suddenly, and reached out to her protege. "Ranma... _*cough*_... see me home..."

Ranma bit her lip, and climbed into the bed alongside her. She cradled the dying body tightly in her arms. "Hai. I... I will."

*****************************************************************************

Above Nerima's streets and alleyways, a time-honored tradition revealed itself one more time, as a pair of martial artists faced each other on its rooftops.

The first of these warriors was a young woman in her mid-twenties, though her petite stature suggested a far younger age. Short brown hair stuck out in odd directions, while a red ribbon sought to rein the unruly mass in. A round, unblemished face grinned madly at her opponent, with laughing brown eyes almost mocking her. Her small, muscular frame was readied in a combat stance, waiting for her adversary to make the first move.

The adversary in question stood ready in a stance modified for wielding bonbori. Though she was taller than the first, she was also much younger, a warrior maid in her mid-teens. Long bluish-purple hair was tied behind her into a ponytail, and she stared back at her teacher with predator's eyes. Unlike the others in the area, she wore Chinese clothing, a red blouse and slacks that flattered her fit, artfully-curved frame. She smiled a small, wry grin, then leapt in for the attack.

Thrust, parry, counter, block... the ballet performed one more time, two performers at the highest of skill levels facing off against each other in combat. Both clearly knew the importance of patience and strategy, neither offering a viable target to the other... until...

"Kiyaah!" Kurumi, the first of the combatants, ducked an unwise thrust from Mouthwash, and kicked the weapon's shaft, snapping the weapon in two. Mouthwash, retreating to safe ground, simply tossed the handle away with typical Amazon arrogance.

"Care to try that again, Kurumi?" Mouthwash purred.

The proprietor of the Tendo Dojo nodded. "Why not?" She instantly rushed into the attack, feinted a Chestnut Fist, then took Mouthwash by surprise with a foot to the stomach. Mouthwash winced in pain, and tried to catch her breath.

"Not bad for an 'outsider', eh, Mouthwash?" Kurumi grinned.

The exiled Amazon nodded in agreement. "Not bad. I'm almost sorry to leave here."

Kurumi's shoulders drooped at the news. "So... you've decided to go back?"

"With Cologne's death, my exile is no longer enforced. Ranma will admit me back."

A wry grin formed on the woman's face. "Considering she's one of the people who sent you here..."

"She didn't have a choice. That sex-changing witch Blossom framed me good. It was either leave or die. At the same time, they knew I had been framed and felt I needed to be taken care of." Mouthwash sighed, wishing for something she couldn't have. "Still... I will miss Kentaro..."

"Well, you can visit, can't you?" Kurumi's eyes danced. "Either that or drag him along by the hair..."

The two girls laughed, with a comfort born of intimate friendship.

****************************************************************************

Ranran stared uneasily at the lonely hut in front of her. She brushed a lock of indigo hair from her face, and wondered for the hundredth time if she was doing the right thing by coming. To be caught here - with her - courted exile, or death. Still, she owed this woman, exile or no exile, a blood debt, and she held far too much honor to dismiss it. With a firmness born of strong conviction, she walked up to the door.

"Who is it?" a feminine voice answered.

"A friend."

The door creaked open, causing Ranran's heart to fall at the sight. The warrior on the other side bore little resemblance to the teenaged superstar she had once fought with. The intensity in her stare, that leader's fire that made her a legend, was now vanished behind a cold gray stare. The long sable hair, her trademark locks, had been shorn into a shoulder-length mass. Scars decorated the warrior's skin, each one capable of telling of some small horror in her life. She smiled grimly, and gracefully waved a hand back. "Won't you come in?"

"Of course." The Nyuchiezu woman stepped inside the little shack, and took a seat.

"So... Cologne is dead or dying," Blossom whispered tonelessly.

"Er... yes. How did you know?"

The smile widened only slightly. "Your anxiety."

Ranran glanced down at the floor for a moment. "Blossom... I know you and Ranma haven't gotten along, but please... don't do anything rash. The village needs warriors like you."

Blossom sobered, and seemed to look sad for a moment. She placed an iron hand on the nervous Amazon's shoulder. "My apologies, old friend, but I prefer to die on my feet than live on my knees."

"Oh no... please, Blossom... I'm sure I could convince Ranma to-"

"No." The whisper was a harsh one, so full of previously unreleased anguish. "I must follow my own path, Ranran, even if... even if I am destroyed by it." She managed a brave smile for her guest, and pulled out a large bottle.

"Come, my wild friend. Let us speak of happier times, and look with some hope to the coming days." Her eyebrow arched slightly. "Tell me. How is your sister doing? I heard about her marriage..."

****************************************************************************

The sole heir to Cologne's wisdom stood alone on a platform near the center of the village, her muscular form proud and dignified as she found comfort in the sunset's beauty. The dying orb descended slowly between peaks, its fire appearing as a keyhole in the door to the sky. It seemed to hang in the position for a moment, its determined brilliance the only fraction of a once-unyielding light, until even this faded away, leaving only the strange muted hues of the afterglow.

The time had come to say goodbye.

Ranma gripped the staff, for eons the symbol of spiritual and healing guidance in the village, and swung it gracefully toward the gong next to her. At its ringing, the people who called themselves Nyuchiezu walked silently toward the call, each one carrying an ornate, well-used candle. A new platform had been erected in the square, a relatively small table of hay and grass draped with an ornate forest-green cloth - the funeral pyre of a Nyuchiezu chieftain.

The heir apparent to the position glanced out to the crowd around the pyre, and swallowed hard. These people, who had for so long looked to Cologne for guidance, turned their eyes to her for the next move. She quietly cleared her throat, and tried to sound dignified through her sadness.

"Nyuchiezu, we are gathered here on this night to pay our final respects to the first warrior of our people, the honored Cologne." Her voice started to break, the loss within cracking her professional demeanor. "While fate did not honor her with... with a warrior's death, Cologne proved herself to us by living a warrior's life. In battle, she acted with a speed and ferocity unparalleled among our ranks; in peace, she planned for the future with a calm, decisive certainty born of infinite wisdom. Now it is time... time to wish her spirit a pleasant journey."

She stood in front of a small log, prepared with a small notch. As was the custom, Ranma placed the point of her staff in the notch, then stood there in strange focus. A moment later, she snatched the staff away, an instant before the now-blazing log could consume the old wood.

"This fire is one that must be shared among us. We women have always looked to each other for support, as we depend on the skills and wisdom of our fellow Nyuchiezu for our very survival. Come, share in Cologne's fire." She stepped back, allowing the others in the community to light their candles. The entire square soon glowed with candle-flame, save the darkest place of all.

Ranma grasped an unlit torch that sat next to the pyre, and stuck its proper end into the flame. The warrior held the torch aloft, like a general leading soldiers into battle, her image almost surreal in the flickering light.

"Honored ancestor, valorous warrior, may you fare well in your spirit journeys. We... will sorely miss your fire and wisdom." With these final words, she tossed the torch onto the pyre.

The oil-treated platform caught fire almost immediately, surrounding the body on top of it in yellow-white flame. The old warrior's face looked a strange, haunting mask with the flames dancing over it, the now-empty shell slowly dissolving to bone from the searing heat. Ranma stood there, transfixed, unable to move her eyes from this angel... devil... witch. The path the departed warrior had followed was never an easy or pleasant one... but usually ended up being the right one.

And now the path was hers to take, with all the rights and responsibilities therein. Cologne had not only shaped the chieftain's role in her decades in the position; it had shaped her, into a creature both beautiful and terrible. She handled situations with a cerebral, delicate touch, but could in an instant reveal the claws beneath the velvet gloves. For better or worse, it had molded her into a leader. Would she suffer the same fate - or could she mold the position into something brighter?

She prayed, with what little innocence remained within her, that she could.

A hand, gentle as a cool breeze, touched her on the shoulder. Ranma turned around to face Mei Ling, one of the village's elders.

"I apologize, Ranma, for disturbing your meditations. However, it is necessary that we speak with you before the time of succession tomorrow."

Ranma nodded, then bowed to the aged warrior. "As you wish." She then turned back to the cremation, allowing her mind to be entranced by the ghostly firelight.

****************************************************************************

"This meeting of the clan matriarchs will come to order."

Ranma looked around, frowning, at the spacious, though spartan, room. Around her were the leaders of each major family of the tribe - true warrior women, with hawklike eyes and a cool demeanor about them that suggested supreme confidence. After a long, uncomfortable silence, an old warrior stood up and spoke in grave tones.

"Healer Ranma, we have some concerns about your possible leadership, and we feel that these should be dealt with before we begin the ceremony. You have served this village with distinction and zeal over the past six years, and proven yourself an honor both to Cologne and our people. However, this does not change the fact that you were born a man, and wish to return to the form as soon as possible."

Ranma nodded sagely. "What is it you ask of me?"

The old woman looked down at her feet for a moment. "We do not ask that you never return to your birth form. Such a request would be unfair of any being. My own sister fell into the changing waters long ago, and her trials showed me the horrors of living in an unnatural form, even one so blessed as an Amazon's."

"What we do ask of you we hope you will not find unacceptable. We ask, first and foremost, that you live and act as a woman in your roles of chieftain and healer, and that you consider yourself such in all matters save marriage and progeny. Moreover, we ask that you not seek a total cure to your condition, and that you not strike against Herb until a favorable situation arises."

The young Nyuchiezu chewed thoughtfully on a thumbnail. "The last one I will agree to wholeheartedly. I do not wish to see the needless loss of life simply because of my reckless haste. In the other matters... the first is perhaps a bit harsh and unnecessary. I will probably spend much of my time in public as a woman anyway, as the village expects it of me. To abandon my Amazon self would not only dishonor myself, but my mentor, my family, and my friends. As for the condition of not seeking a cure, it is superfluous. No cure has ever been found."

A broad-shouldered warrior in the back smiled, and chuckled softly. "No offense, Ranma, but you have shown an affinity for making possible the impossible."

"None taken. However, I am not the only one affected in such a case. There are currently sixty-seven people known to have Jusenkyo curses, of which eight are members of this village. Am I to ignore their pleas for help if asked?"

The others murmured softly to one another. "Of course not. Are we to assume, then, that you will not accept a total cure?"

"Of course. You have my word on it."

"And the rest?"

Ranma frowned. That was precisely what they wanted: her word of honor, her assurance that a man will never lead them. She took in a slow, deep breath, then began, darkness building with each word.

"I swear, on my honor as a Nyuchiezu, that I will not strike at Lord Herb, the Musk Prince, until a favorable situation arises. I also swear that I will never accept a total cure to the Jusenkyo waters. Should I find myself so changed, I will immediately travel to Jusenkyo and immerse myself in the Spring of Drowned Woman, thereby returning me to my proper Amazon form. I will also live as a female in a majority of the day-to-day operations of the village, and will be a female at all official functions and all battles. The Nyuchiezu are to consider me a warrior woman in all respects of the village save marriage and progeny should I regain the ability to change into a man, and I shall act according to that tenet. Should I violate this oath, I ask that my Nyuchiezu sisters kill me for my dishonor." She took out a small knife and cut her arm, allowing the blood to drip onto the floor. "I seal this bond with my own life blood, before the elders, the leaders of our people." The glare she fixed on the crowd would have done her mentor proud. "Is that sufficient?" she growled.

The aged Mei Ling, the one who had invited her, stood up and bowed. "I think that will be sufficient, Ranma. Now, if you will excuse us, we have a tribal meeting to assemble. We will allow you time to calm yourself, as we understand the feelings behind your oath." She gestured to her fellow elders, who slowly filed out of the room.

The selected chieftain collapsed into a chair, as her hands tried to rub the frustration from her features. She had not been surprised by the elders' requests; indeed, she had fully expected their demands. Still... there was no getting around what she had done. The Chisuiton's curse had locked her in physical womanhood; the oath so recently uttered had done the same to her in name. There was so little left of the man she was, only spirit dying with each passing day and crystal memories shattering one by one in life's storms. This oath, in its way more powerful than the cursed bucket, had taken away a part of _'him'_... and may have signed _'his'_ death warrant.

The woman took a moment to steel herself, then placed a hand over her cut. There was little time to waste; the assembly would begin in moments, and she knew the challenges that awaited her. She bandaged the wound, checked her clothing for bloodstains, and walked out into the open air.

The elders stood waiting on the platform, their faces serious and stern. They nodded at Ranma's coming, and made room for the youngest of matriarchs. The gong was rung, summoning the people to the square. Mei, often called the conscience of the elders, raised her hand to silence the crowd.

"Fellow warriors, we have assembled this day to decide Cologne's successor." She threw a sidelong glance at a stoic Ranma. "After much debate, we, the elders of the Nyuchiezu tribe, have decided to accept Cologne's choice of successor and nominate Ranma Saotome for the position of chieftain." A small murmuring spread among the warriors there. "Is there anyone here who challenges her right to the leadership?"

"I challenge _him_."

The crowd parted, to reveal a grim reaper clothed in black, with ice-gray eyes tinged with anger. Blossom walked through the impromptu row with catlike steps toward the platform. "I declare Ranma unfit for the position due to his birth gender."

"Whether either of us likes it or not, Blossom, we are both women in the eyes of our peers. I accept your challenge." The redhead stepped off of the platform, while the crowd made room for the coming battle. Mei stepped between the two warriors.

"I trust the two of you know the rules. This fight continues until one person yields, is unconscious, or dead." The old eyes looked sad for a moment. "Begin."

Blossom charged in with a shockingly fast punch-kick combination that would send the best fighters reeling. Ranma blocked the first, dodged the second, then moved back to relative safety.

"Not bad, Blossom. Not bad at all." She swept the pigtail from her shoulder.

"It's not wise to mock me, Ranma." The once-exiled warrior advanced for another attack, only to meet empty air.

"But it's so easy to do..." Ranma grinned.

"I warned you..." Blossom leapt at the warrior and launched a barrage of punches, then...

"Shishi Houkoudan!"

The smaller version of the depression blast flared out from Blossom's hands, engulfing the champion in white-hot fire. Thinking her battle won, the dark warrior allowed herself the luxury of a smile.

A haymaker to her jaw let her know it was a luxury she could ill-afford. Ranma passed through the flames unharmed, and chose style over effect in her response. The punch sent the brunette flying to the edges of the crowd.

"A small lesson for you, Blossom: Never throw a Shishi Houkoudan against me. I've lived through ki-blasts that make that look like a firecracker. Not only that, but you're not doing it quite right." Her face darkened. "A Shishi Houkoudan can be refined, improved... like this!" A similar blast to the one before, though far more powerful than Blossom's, knocked the poor woman to her knees. Blood oozed from her mouth as she stood up, knees shaking.

Ranma smelled victory in the air. "Hey, Blossom. Wanna see a fun trick?"

The cold warrior was silent.

"Kashuu Tenshin Amaguriken!" Ranma charged in, hands blurring as the punches came flying.

Blossom coughed, a failed attempt at a laugh. "That old trick? Heh. I know... know... WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?!?" The warrior stood unmoving, save the horror painted on her face.

Ranma shrugged. "Oh, that? Just your typical Amaguriken... with a nice Shiatsu point thrown in." She touched the warrior's sleep spot before anything else could happen, causing the giantess to collapse to the ground.

"Mei Ling? Care to do the honors?"

The matriarch examined Blossom's still form critically, then stood back up. "By knockout, the winner of the challenge is Ranma." She bowed to the fiery redhead. "Congratulations... Chieftain."

Ranma, quite naturally, returned the pleasantries. "Thank you, Matriarch." She pulled out a small vial, marked '110', from her pocket. "Mei Ling? Could you please bring me some hot water? I have some hair styling to do..."

*****************************************************************************

The celebration that followed at Ucchan's was a lively one, if a tad reserved. Sake and other potent potables flowed freely from their various containers, sending those blessed to share in the festivities into inebriated bliss. While most of the Amazons had their reservations about placing a former man in the highest role, they joined in the celebration, as there were few doubts concerning her abilities or loyalties. Unfortunately, Ranma's ascension was coupled with sadness, and the emptiness of Cologne's and Blossom's absence was felt among the crowd.

Night had long since fallen by the time the guest of honor stood up to raise her glass. Her beautiful soprano voice, softened by the weight of life, shook from alcohol's effects. "My friends, I must thank you for an excellent celebration. It has been a long time since I have enjoyed myself like this... but, regrettably, duty calls, and I have much to look over tonight."

"Oh, come on, Ranchan..." Ukyou slurred, "can't you relax at least once?"

Ranma fixed a smiling glare on her childhood friend. "No. Cologne's work is my work now, and I have a century of catching up to do." Her smile broadened. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ucchan."

A round of hearty goodbyes echoed through the place as Ranma left, bringing a small comfort to the veteran warrior. A small paranoid part of her mind feared that the opposition to her leadership would be considerable; to find it only a minor problem came as a relief to her. She walked to the empty house, hers alone now, though once it held a proud family of warriors. She went to the basement, to a room shrouded in mystery - the library.

A number of legends exist of the treasure of the Nyuchiezu, a storehouse of wealth rumored to be able to buy nations. While some material wealth does exist in the village, this pales next to the true treasure beneath the surface. Under the floors of the house lay a storehouse of knowledge to rival Alexandria, from cancer cures and ancient texts to annual weather reports and martial arts techniques. Such a treasure was more valuable than any gold or gemstone - and far more useful. Ranma gently opened the door and strolled inside, each footstep echoing like a gunshot through the great hall.

The room itself was a large one, roughly the size of the entire house above, and covered in an inky darkness pierced by the lamplight. The air around was musty, with a still feeling of reverence accorded ancient cathedrals or temples. Shelving covered the walls of the library, scrolls from cultures long gone intermingled with modern masterpieces. In the middle of this hall were a few chairs - and a large wooden crate bearing Ranma's name.

After standing for a few minutes in awe at the treasure around her, she noticed the present left her. She hefted the box and walked up to the main living area, where she could examine its contents in greater comfort.

Inside were several carefully-wrapped packages, as well as a letter... a final letter from Cologne. Tears fell from the Amazon's eyes as she read the farewell.

_Dear Ranma,_

_If you are reading letter as I wish, then I have died and you have succeeded me to the position of leadership. There is so much I want to say to you, so many wonders to show to you; unfortunately, my time grows short, and these few words must serve in my absence._

_First of all, do not mourn me gone. While the curtain of the beyond has largely concealed what I journey to, I have learned enough to know there is a resting place to where souls go, and we both have a number of friends waiting on the other side. Also, I have lived a full 117 years of life, and have no major regrets to take with me._

_I do not know if you hold any regrets concerning your coming here; if you do, I pray you abandon them quickly. Whether this be a home to you yet or not, it is necessary that you make it so. You have friends here, to whom you can turn to in times of need. Trust their counsel, for they can see things blind to us._

_The leadership position you now hold is not an enviable one, my friend. There are many doubts that the great tribe of women we lead will survive the next century; it is your task to see that it does. You must break down the walls, Ranma._

_The first walls you must conquer are the ones you will reflexively build around yourself. The wisdom and responsibility charged to us often forces us to shut a part of ourselves off from the village. By the end, I had erected so many barriers around myself that only you could see the human being behind the mask of leadership. Do not let this fate become yours as well._

_The other walls you must conquer make the ones mentioned above seem insignificant by comparison. This Nyuchiezu tribe will not survive as it is now. We have exiled ourselves off from the world of men for too long, and our lack of change is threatening our future. Every year, more and more of our talented youth leave their homes behind to pursue happiness outside of the village. We must somehow adapt, allowing ourselves to blend and work in the world outside without abandoning the core philosophies that made us great. I believe the world is not only ready for our wisdom, it is in need of it, as women enter the workplaces normally dominated by men. We can teach them - teach them how to be proud of who they are, and to be strong in the face of overwhelming pressures. I could not do this, as I am immersed in the old ways. You, on the other hand, are a gifted mix of so much - womanhood and manhood, Nyuchiezu matriarchy and Japanese chauvinism, ancient wisdom and modern savvy. This is why I urged Shampoo to pursue you, and why I selected you for this position after the tragedy. Your experiences are a godsend, and will guide us into Nyuchiezu's future._

_Mei told me of their requirements of you concerning the leadership. Right now their demands must still have you bristling; let the anger go. They are trying to act in the best interests of the tribe, as are you. I imagine in the end you will live as a woman by day for the tribe, and as a man at night for Miss Kuonji._

_There is no use avoiding or fighting that situation, by the way. She loves you with an almost inhuman devotion, and would follow you to the ends of the earth. Also, despite your continued efforts to avoid your feelings, it is obvious that you care a great deal for her. I know you are hesitant to even think of such matters given your current situation, but it is past time you talked about it with her. Even if you decide not to start a relationship just yet, make sure you stay by her side._

_My pupil, the lessons I have taught you are only the beginning of the journey. The world has much left to teach you. Some lessons will be of such beauty and life as to make you feel reborn, while other, darker lessons wait to freeze your soul to ice. Whatever you do, Ranma, go forward, always forward, and do not stop. Farewell, old friend, and prove my trust was not misplaced in you._

_With love,_

_Cologne._

Drying her tears, Ranma brought out the other contents of the box.

The first package was a blouse, a tunic of local cut. A white Celtic-style cross was stitched on the field of forest-green, while red trim bordered the fine silk. These were the colors of Cologne's family since time immemorial, and were now hers to wear with honor.

The other two items were books - thick leatherbound journals capable of recording years of notes and thoughts. The first was empty, full of blank pages ready for a chieftain's wit and wisdom. Ranma readied her ink for the journal, her brush poised above the virgin paper... but could not write anything, save her name. Somehow, she felt that her stories weren't ready - not yet, anyway.

The second book, on the other hand, was filled with journal entries - journals detailing the last seven years of a chieftain's life. Ranma brewed herself a pot of tea, and settled down to read.

_September 18, 1992 - Shampoo returned home yesterday in disgrace. Unfortunately, she did not know any better, and let herself be tricked. From what my great-granddaughter described to me, my suspicions of this foreigner Ranma have proven correct: the girl who defeated her is in fact a man, molded through Jusenkyo's touch into a female..._

_...September 30, 1998 - Disturbing events are occurring, and I fear the conflict between Ranma and Blossom will soon come to a head. The young champion Mouthwash was caught two days ago with information about Ranma's existence, as well as other classified information for delivery to the Musk. All of the evidence suggests the poor girl was framed; however, I cannot let Blossom know-_

*knock, knock*

"Good morning, Ranchan!"

"Hey, Ranma. You up?"

The new leader of the Nyuchiezu looked up from her reading. Surprise registered on her weary features at the rising sun in the window, then at the equally weary warriors entering her abode. She managed a weak smile for her friends.

"Er... good morning. I trust the party went on well after I left?"

Nabiki flopped on the couch, her face grimacing from the party's aftereffects. "Oooh...don't remind me. I didn't know that much sake existed."

Ukyou nodded gently in agreement. "Ranchan... I hope you don't mind, but could we start the morning practices tomorrow? I don't think either of us are in the mood for it."

Ranma reached a hand up to rub the weariness from her eyes. "Sounds good to me - for today, anyway. I was up all night with Cologne's notes." She looked to the now-cold kettle on the table, then to the kitchen. "So. Anyone in the mood for tea?"

****************************************************************************

Ukyou stood at her station in life, though she did it for a far more important reason than money this night. She worked her spatulas over the okonomiyaki, a gentle smile adorning her features. After a moment, she scooped the food up, twirled each one on her spatula, and sent them flying... right onto their desired plates. She took off her trademark bandolier, and walked over to join her friends... her family.

Her family, those she would gladly give her life and more for, sat at the table waiting for her (save Genma; the old man was already chowing down). Curiosity was the prevailing mood among the crowd, though amusement and agitation was also mixed in among the group. With a gentle grace, Ukyou took her proper seat at the table.

"So, Ukyou, why have you called us here? I've got a store to run." Nabiki was a tad impatient, letting her tapping fingertips show her mild anxiety.

The chef sighed. "That, my dear Nabiki, is one of the reasons why I have called you all here."

Only perplexed looks came in reply. Ukyou took a bite from her plate, then continued.

"Before Cologne... passed on, she sent a letter to me." Ranma began to choke on her drink, prompting a smile from the chef. "Anyway, among other things... she said that we were drifting too far apart, and that we as a family need to stick together."

Nodoka smiled, approving of the decision. "I'll admit I'm for it. My daughter so rarely visits ever since she moved out..." She winked to Ranma, to show she wasn't completely serious.

"So, Ucchan..." Ranma said, pausing to take in a bite, "what do you want to talk about?"

A wicked glint appeared in Ukyou's eyes. "I dunno... Cologne's death, your becoming chieftain, your promise to stay a woman forever..."

"WHAT?!?" The rest of the group looked stunned at the news. Ranma stammered, desperately trying to explain the circumstances of her succession.

"It's... it's not like that! It's in name only!"

Ukyou sat back, smug at her success. "I know, Ranchan, I know. However, did it ever occur to you that we might like to hear something like that from you - rather than the gossip lines?"

The dark-haired beauty reached out her hands, to grab Ranma's. "Ranchan, I know that your new position carries with it some secrets that you feel you can't share. But, please... if it affects someone we care for very much... tell us. We're your family. We can help."

The redhead sighed. "I'll try. I dunno if I'll be able to, though..."

"That's all we ask." Ukyou focused a stern gaze on her ex-fiance. "Now. Is there anything -"

*knock, knock*

"We'll continue this discussion later," Ukyou whispered quickly, then turned her head to the door. "Come in..."

A weary traveler walked into the little shop. Though sweat and grime decorated the teenager's clothing and face, she walked with a skip to her step and a happy glint in her eye. She set down her backpack, and bowed before the seated chieftain.

"Mistress, I realize that I have done wrong, that I have dishonored myself and the Nyuchiezu with my actions. However, much time has passed, and I beseech you to lift the veil of dishonor from me, and readmit me into the tribe."

"The veil is lifted, Mouthwash," Ranma spoke, laughter threatening to come. "And stop calling me 'Mistress'. It makes me sound like I'm doing something immoral."

"As you wish, Milady."

Ranma groaned. Ukyou smiled, and went back to the grill.

"Sit down and take a load off, Mouthwash. I'll make you some supper."

The teenager's face lit up. "Really? Thanks! You know, I tried the okonomiyaki in Tokyo... somehow it didn't taste quite as good."

The family smiled. "Well, Ucchan's one of the best. Finding someone of her caliber isn't easy."

The light in Mouthwash's eyes began to dim. "Milady... where are Blossom's ashes?"

"Ashes?"

"You did kill her, didn't you?" Mouthwash spoke matter-of-factly, then with more insistence. "Didn't you?"

The chieftain took a sip of her tea. "As a matter of fact, Mouthwash, I didn't. I used shampoo to erase her memory."

"The Formula 110, or the stuff you were experimenting on?"

"The 110. I haven't perfected the other stuff yet."

Fear washed over Mouthwash, dark thoughts flying in her head. "Milady... it would have been better to not take that chance. If she gets a hold of a memory restorer... we're all in danger."

"Assuming she does... I don't think we have much to fear from her. I've already defeated her easily."

"Chieftain... you don't know her like I do. The village was her life. By taking that from her forever, you have already killed her. And, if I'm right... she's going to take as many of her enemies with her."

The young warrior pushed her chair from the table, her appetite gone. "Ranma... you are the chieftain now, sworn to maintain the honor and well-being of our people. By letting her live... you may have endangered us all."

****************************************************************************

Masculine screams echoed like a chorus through the village the following morning, calling the young chieftain from her slumber. She readied herself for the obvious crisis, and ran outside with the urgency of a trauma doctor. The sight that awaited her was a horrible, surreal picture, a staggering image difficult for even the Jusenkyo-cursed woman to believe.

The crowd gathering at her doorstep was composed primarily of men, strong, but fearful almost to the point of panic. Most of these men were strangers, their faces unknown to the village... but their eyes and ill-fitting clothing told the story. The leader recognized Jusenkyo's touch instantly, and asked for silence among the mob.

"Okay, everyone, enough! Now, what happened? Who did this to you?"

A tall, handsome man stepped through the crowd, dark eyes like ice in the predawn light. Ranma blinked in surprise; apparently Nabiki was among those affected. The new man grabbed Ranma's shoulders, and pinned her to the wall.

"Who else?"

Ranma gulped. Anger was a common emotion from Nabiki; it was the fuel which burned in her and drove her onward. But now... her old friend was reaching a cold fury of frightening proportions. She steeled herself for the onslaught of complaints, when another, high-pitched voice broke through.

"It's not permanent! It's not..." The young lady, obviously shaken by recent events, told her tale. "I... I woke up changed, just as you all are. I guessed Jusenkyo, and tested it. I changed back with hot water, but cold water doesn't change me." She splashed cold water on one of the 'men', to demonstrate.

Ranma wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, relief spreading through her at the news. While the crowd dispersed to change and go back to sleep, Nabiki held her grip, the anger inside giving way to fear.

"Ranma...there's something else. I... I passed Ucchan's..."

The warrior's heart froze. "What? Where is she?" she asked, panic rising with each syllable.

"The place is a wreck, Ran-"

Nabiki never finished her sentence. Ranma made a beeline for the little restaurant, her cries echoing through the village.

The cafe, the product of years of hard work, had been left in shambles. Splinters were all that remained of most of the furniture, while spatulas and sword strokes littered the walls and floor. The grill, the canvas where the artist had worked her magic, was bent and torn beyond repair. A single letter lay on one of the few intact tables, which Ranma quickly seized and opened.

_My dearest Ranma,_

_I did not appreciate your decision to wipe away my memories. While most of them are rather unpleasant, they are still mine to cherish, and I prefer to keep them. I'm not bitter, though, and have decided to let bygones be bygones. In fact, I've decided to help you with your love life, as you seem so lonely in your new position. If you're willing, I'll introduce you to this great-looking guy, with long brown hair, the most beautiful brown eyes, and a cooking style like none other. You should taste this guy's okonomiyaki... it's to die for._

_If you have any objections to this, I will be at Jusenkyo at noon today._

_With love,_

_Blossom._

_P.S. Isn't instant Nannichuan fun?_

"BLOSSOM..." Ranma roared like a demon freed, and slammed her fist into the table. She balled a shaking fist around her pigtail, eyes shut trying to see, yet not to see. A slightly metallic taste flooded her mouth - blood from a bitten lip.

"Ranma."

The shattered woman turned to the deep voice, and dried what few tears escaped. Nabiki, still masculine, walked over to her, his eyes narrow slits. "Ranma... this has to end. Blossom isn't just a threat to you now; her continued existence puts the Nyuchiezu in jeopardy."

Ranma nodded painfully. "Get... get Pop. I'm going to need a second for this."

****************************************************************************

The morning sun had arrived some time ago, sending a piercing light into the spartan room. A lone figure, clothed only in various undergarments, sat meditating in its center, the only sound coming from her lithe form the gentle inhale and exhale of life's breath. She held in her slender hands a katana, the honor blade of her birth clan.

Honor. Death. Somehow, the words seemed almost contradictory together. Every killing she had been unfortunate to play some role in was distinctly lacking in the high quality, from Herb's cowardice at Mount Hoorai to Blossom's revenge on Happousai at Jusenkyo. How was this killing any different?

Her mind, the analytical, calculating strategist within her, screamed the reasons. The death of her friends had not been provoked; the Musk prince had no reason to fear for his life. Neither was Happousai's murder; the newly-cursed master had been at the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong body. Blossom, though, posed a clear threat to human lives and livelihoods, and would kill (or worse) without hesitation. Moreover, everything within the chieftain's power short of death had been tried. She had even gone so far as to experiment (unsuccessfully) on mind-altering shampoos to erase Blossom's memory of the place. Killing was the only option left. As she was now chieftain, an honor which carried the responsibility of life and death, it was her duty to see it done.

That didn't mean she had to like it, though...

Ranma's eyes snapped open. She walked over to the closet, and flipped through the colorful silks and satins. She paused for a moment at the green blouse Cologne had given her, then continued until she found the outfit she was looking for.

The previously-unworn shirt and pants were identical in cut to outfits she had worn in Nerima, with the wood ties down the middle. What was different about this outfit, though, was the color, one she preferred to avoid.

Black. The color of the night... of darkness.

She took the outfit from the closet and dressed, each movement weighed as though it decided the fate of nations. Next came the honor blade along her back, ready at a moment's notice.

The warrior looked at the clock: two hours to noon. Time to go.

****************************************************************************

In some respects, Jusenkyo could be considered Quinghai Province's elysium, a place untouched and untouchable to warfare. Numerous factions had traveled through the region over the millennia, carving rivers of blood in their petty conquests - and avoided the pools of sorrow with an almost paranoid fervor. A few of these groups, such as the honorable Nyuchiezu or valorous Musk, settled down in the area and called the place home, though even these peoples treated the pools with the upmost care. After all, no warlord or soldier wished to be made an ass of - either figuratively or literally.

This was precisely why Blossom had chosen this spot above all others. The place had already worked its magic on her... him, and could do no more lasting damage to either of them. Anyone foolish enough to accompany the chieftain, though, risked body and soul by coming. A small part of her soul almost hoped someone would; the changed people would show Ranma for the failure she was.

The dishonored giant looked back at the prize he had collected. Ukyou struggled against the bonds that held her to the pole, while a rope extended from the pole to his hand. All it would take is one good tug...

"Blossom."

He turned around to the calling... and smiled. The fool had come, as expected, but had brought others with her... her father, the coward Genma, and the money-hungry Nabiki. Good. The more witnesses, the better. Blossom coughed once, then bowed congenially to the chieftain.

"Greetings, Ranma. Or do you prefer 'Mistress' now? 'Your Worship', perhaps?"

"Can it, Blossom." Ranma's teeth were clenched in anger.

"You know, a Nyuchiezu chieftain should have a more civil tongue." He held up the rope to punctuate his point.

Ranma walked alone into the midst of the springs, hands open in non-violence. "Why are you doing this, Blossom?"

The giant glowered at his greatest rival. "You took away everything I held dear... everything I was!"

"Then why go after them, if I'm your target?" She gestured to Ukyou on the pole. "Do you really want to give her the change? We both know what it's like... the flash of nothingness... the realization... do you really want to give that to another human being?"

"Yes." Blossom replied icily. "Hurting them hurts you. Especially when she's involved." He readied himself into a fighting stance. "Care to stop me?"

Ranma nodded sadly, unable to fight fate. "As you wish."

Blossom opened by pulling a handful of daggers from his belt. "Care to see a fun trick?" he said, pantomiming Ranma's words from before. The daggers left his strong hands at blinding speed, a phalanx headed straight for Ranma's heart.

Ranma's eyes widened - but only for a moment. She started to _move_, her lightning hands catching the blades, then launching them to their point of origin.

Blossom leapt sideways to dodge the blades, then managed a small smile. "Not bad, Ranma... not bad at all."

Ranma looked back at the warrior. "Musk Dynasty?" she asked, a touch of fear in her voice.

"Uh-huh." The giant looked smug at the fact. "Trained there for a year or so. You know... you're actually pretty lucky. Herb doesn't remember you."

Ranma looked at the situation... and frowned. Blossom was trying to cloud her judgement, to get her priorities jumbled up by angering her. If she played it the wrong way, if she attacked Blossom outright... Ukyou could end up a casualty. That left only one way to play it.

"You know, if I were you, I'd feel pretty insulted." Blossom droned, seeking to distract. "Think about it: The primary focus of your frustrations and the object of your revenge can't even be bothered to remember your name."

"Do the world a favor, Blossom... shut up." The warrior launched herself at Blossom, ready to perform the Amaguriken-Shiatsu maneuver that she'd used earlier. Wary of her tricks, Blossom retreated rather than attempt a block, moving out of the line between Ranma and Ukyou.

That's when Ranma bolted, her senses on overdrive, ready for the coming reprisals. The first and expected one was the pulling of the rope. Fear rose in Ukyou's eyes as she felt the sickening weightlessness of freefall... Ranma continued running, her race taking on new urgency. The chieftain leapt over the spring in a near-horizontal bound, snagged Ukyou, and threw her to the safe zone, away from the cursed pools. She sensed rather than saw the daggers coming, one, two, three...

Four. A choked scream echoed through the grounds as a dagger caught Ranma in the shoulder, sending her tumbling like a rag doll into a spring.

Blossom stood there, numb, the screams of the others dimly heard in his mind. He'd done it... beaten the unbeatable... they... they had to accept him... her... whoever as chieftain now...

A fist rapidly approaching his face snapped the proto-leader out of his reverie. He ducked, and stood to face Genma Saotome.

The aging martial artist made no effort to conceal his tears - or the fury behind them. "You have killed my only child, one most precious to me. By all I hold holy..." he launched a fierce barrage, then felt overwhelming pain from Blossom's counter. The giant picked Genma up by the scruff of the neck.

"'One most precious'? Hah!" Blossom mocked. "How many tortures have you put her through in her life? What other hells have you had her endure besides this one?"

"I dunno. He was usually there when I needed him!"

Blossom turned around. The focus of his anger stood there: dripping wet, bleeding... and very much alive. He dropped the old man, and readied himself for the fight.

Ranma blinked, and focused her eyes on the dishonored one. She could feel her mind slowing, the strange lightheadedness that comes with blood loss, and knew that time was running out.

In other words, if she wanted to get out alive, she had to act - now. She carefully unsheathed the katana, and held it in her left (and only useful) hand.

"I'm sorry, Blossom."

The warrior charged without mercy, thrusting quickly and repeatedly with her blade, not allowing Blossom the slightest moment of respite for counter. Blossom dodged the first few thrusts, but, ill-trained for the specific situation, found himself outmatched. The final blow was a merciful one, a thrust to the heart, stopping the young man/woman's life before he could feel any more pain. Surprisingly, the look on Blossom's face at the end was not of pain, or anger... but a strange peace.

Ranma slumped over the still form of her foe, cradled his head in her lap, and began to cry softly... she hadn't wanted this, avoided it like the plague... but... but...

She felt a pressure on her good shoulder, a gentle nudging downward. Unable to resist, she lay down on the ground.

"Take it easy, Ranchan. You'll be all right. We'll get you help. Just lie there and stay calm." Ukyou's voice seemed so distant to her ears, so far away...

"Sh-shouldn't... be here, Ucchan," the chieftain slurred. "Too... dangerous."

"Nonsense. Where you go, I follow - no matter what."

Ranma looked up at her companion and friend. So many emotions...so much love in her eyes...

"I wish... wish I could l... lo-"

"I know, Ranchan. I know." Ukyou placed a finger over Ranma's lips to silence them. The last thing Ranma saw before losing consciousness was a tear fall down her cheek...

*****************************************************************************

A lone visitor sat alone at the cursed place of Jusenkyo, and smiled at the picturesque scene in front of her. The sun shone high in the sky, basking the area in its warm glow, while a gentle breeze brushed against her, disturbing her bangs and balancing the sun's warmth with its refreshing cool. The calls of animals could be heard from the forests nearby, a reminder that this place, so rare on the earth, still remained unconquered by civilization, and would probably hold out forever. The warrior forced her attentions from the surroundings, and frowned at the book next to her.

When she had first received this most precious of Cologne's gifts, she had not known what to say. So much had happened to her, such a strange mix of magic, love, and tragedy, that she at first perceived the task of recording it as near-impossible. Still, what she said... what she thought... was important, not only for herself, but for the village... and the future.

A new millennium was approaching, an era ripe with potential - and pitfalls. The village was going to need a new direction if it was to survive, and the job of navigator had been given to her. The changes to come would be neither easy nor pleasant...but they would be necessary. Concessions would have to be made, while somehow keeping the tribe's fire and soul intact, untarnished.

That was what the book was for. Ignorance was bliss only if death was blissful, while wisdom could be the strength to keep the Nyuchiezu together as a people. She clumsily picked up her brush and began to write, an artist's care taken with each stroke.

_It is with great sorrow that I report the passing of Cologne, for so long the leader of our people, after a lengthy illness. Her wisdom and guidance will be sorely missed. I only pray I may live up to her example..._

****************************************************************************

2009 notes:

I think I'll keep the notes as is. One note, though: I did eventually write one more Sunrise story, "Lessons". Other than that, I pretty much said all that needs to be said.

1997 notes:

This is the last of the Sunrise Chronicles, and I currently have no plans to write any post-Sunrise stories, so this is in some ways a goodbye. While I do have ideas for such works, I feel that the works I have thought up would diminish from the current stories, rather than augment. Some stories are worth telling, while others aren't. It is time to move on, to focus on other characters...other lives. I may return, though...if I feel it right.

When I first started writing the original story back in December 1995, I never imagined quite so much would come of this, or that I would put so much of myself into this. To all those beginning writers out there: I pray that you one day have a writing project that touches you as deeply as this one has touched me. Over the past year I have come to know these characters and feel what they feel, and they have come to teach me much about myself. Ranma's honor is very much my own, as is Nabiki's anger, Ukyou's faith...and Blossom's bitterness.

Yes, maybe I do need to get a life. ^_^

Thanks to Rumiko Takahashi, for the obvious. Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read and enjoy this work. The other thank-yous I'm going to post separately, as they are going to be rather long, and I need to think about them.

Original version released January 13, 1997

Released to fanfiction dot net February 25, 2009


End file.
